Irredeemable
by Hordepally
Summary: Lust, addiction, violence, guilt. Since a near fatal car accident Samantha has had a run of bad luck and has taken it all in stride, but when the Joker tears into her life it may be too much for her to take. COMPLETE. OC/Violence/Language/Sexual Content
1. Chapter 1 Things best left behind

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Samantha and David.

**CHAPTER ONE**

Things best left behind

_Sometimes at night she would still think about the wreck and how she had come to meet David Bennett. She had been living in the town of Parnall, not far from Gotham City, and worked the night shift at a call center. One night she was coming home in a snowstorm when her car had slid around a curve and flipped, throwing her out. She didn't recall much after that, most of what she knew she was told later on._

_David had found her lying in the snow, hypothermic, in shock, badly injured. She'd had a compound fracture on her right shin and two years later it still pained her. He had called for help and covered her up with a blanket, lying next to her in the snow until the ambulance arrived. After that he had visited her in the hospital, so sweet and concerned and happy she was doing okay. Samantha was single and alone so it didn't take long for her to start dating this handsome young police officer who seemed to care for her so much and helped her with her recuperation._

_But of course things are never what they seem, are they?_

_His sexual tastes were different to say the least. He liked his women still, very still, in bed. He was moody and his feelings were easily hurt. One night Samantha was at his house waiting for him to finish his shift when she decided to take a look in his closet. Embarrassment at her nosiness quickly turned to horror when she found pictures, rather disconcerting pictures. David apparently liked corpses, and not from a forensic standpoint either. The pictures were from the evidence room at the police station and featured photos of murdered women._

_Samantha confronted him about this and the ensuing fight was...messy. In the end David went to jail and Samantha moved to Gotham to forget the whole sick mess._

_Jump to 2 years later. One night in Gotham City.  
_

* * *

**A/N: **Yes, this chapter is short. Sorry. Think of it as a prologue.


	2. Chapter 2 Mad, bad

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Samantha.

**CHAPTER TWO**

Mad, bad...

One of the best things about working the night shift was the commute home. At three a.m. the streets were fairly clear and the stressed out 8 to 5 ers were long since home. Current events in the city gave people even more reason to stay at home too.

Everyone was afraid of the Joker and even though he tended to strike whenever he felt like it the night seemed his time, the time every boogeyman preferred.

Samantha Knight didn't worry about it, Gotham was a big city. The odds of running into him or his goons were about nil in her estimation. Not to mention the fact she had nothing to do with politics or Batman or any of the things that seemed to draw the Joker's deadly interest. Her anonymity made her safe as could be.

She stopped at a red light, thinking of nothing but getting home. Scanning the empty streets she was sorely tempted to just go on through the light and was actually about to do just that when a noise caught her attention. The deep rumble of a large vehicle getting nearer and nearer. Whatever the vehicle was it sounded like the motor was about to blow up. She glanced into her rearview just in time to see large headlights come into view.

An eighteen wheeler, and it was flying. The truck's motor was letting out a peculiar scream and she could see smoke coming from it.

"Damn" she swore and looked at the light. Still red.

'I'm gonna get hit if I don't run it' she thought and stomped the pedal of her aged Taurus. The car jerked forward...and promptly died.

"Oh damn!" she swore again, more violently this time. The truck was bearing down on her, the driver HAD to see her yet was not slowing.

She did the only thing she could do. She grabbed her purse and jumped out of her car, sprinting to the sidewalk, her bad leg protesting the exertion. Five seconds later the truck plowed into the car. The semi had slowed considerably but the sound of screeching metal and breaking glass was jarring. Her little car was pushed along like a toy for a few feet before the truck stopped with a resounding groan. Then silence.

Samantha stood dumbfounded for a few seconds before anger found her.

"What the hell??" she yelled at the truck. "That was my CAR!!"

The truck's door opened and for a moment she continued to rant.

"I don't have insurance either. What am I supposed to do now asshole!!"

A male figure was coming towards her. In the dim streetlights she could not see his face. The figure was tall and angular, wearing a long trench coat. He came closer, closer still.

Wait, a purple trench coat? What kind of truck driver wore clothes like th...

Horrified, for she was starting to suspect this was no truck driver, she took a few steps backwards but then the figure exploded forward with astonishing speed and grabbed her by the wrists with his gloved hands.

"I swear to God get your hands off me you dumbass." she warned and he laughed at her. A laugh that everyone in Gotham knew.

'Yeah, I'm dead now' she thought mournfully as his face came into view. The white face, garish crimson mouth, scars. It was him. Of all the bad luck she'd ever had this little tidbit took the cake. She had just called the most dangerous man in Gotham a dumbass.

"Well well, you were in my way and then have the nerr-veh to scream at me. And now you call me namesssssss?" His voice was a terrible thing and she immediately thought of the clip she had seen on tv. Brian Douglas, the fake batman. What had happened to that poor man she couldn't even begin to guess. Fear welled up in her then and she fought it back. He was the kind that got off on fear and if she started cowering he would rip her to shreds right then and there.

She partially twisted herself from his grasp. "The light was red!" she shot back. A ridiculous thing to say but under the circumstances it was the best she could do.

To her suprise his black eyes widened and he began to laugh uproariously. With a wince she noticed his teeth were caked in red stuff, blood or makeup she couldn't tell.

"The light was red! Red! Oh, ha, why didn't I think of that! Oh ok then, never-mind!" With that he released her.

"I can go?" she asked warily.

In response his eyes flickered to something behind her, then back to her. He gave a slight incline of his head.

Only then did she see they were surrounded by men in the shadows, the Joker's thugs in clown masks. Damnit she had been too afraid, too fixated on him to notice them.

She started to spin around, intending to make a run for it, when something slammed her hard in the back of the head. Heat and darkness radiated from her skull and she was falling forward. She felt someone catch her from the front. Hands encased in supple purple leather grabbed her arms, holding her up and she knew who it was. Samantha looked up and in her fading vision she saw his amused expression, those shark-like eyes regarding her coldly.

The last thing she heard was: "If you killed her I'll tear you into a thou-sand little piecesssss."


	3. Chapter 3 And dangerous to know

** CHAPTER THREE**

...and dangerous to know.

She awoke sometime later in a dingy room. Someone had laid her on a bare mattress on the floor. For a few moments she lay there digesting her situation and how she'd gotten there.

'How did I miss his men surrounding me?' she thought angrily. They must have been in the trailer of the truck. Her obliviousness appalled her. Then again she couldn't really blame herself. Seeing him in front of her was like seeing the Loch Ness monster or a Yeti in front of you after hearing for years they were around but never quite believing in them. The shock and fascination had made her block everything else out. The last thing she remembered was getting whacked on the head. No recollection of how she got here, how they transported her.

Speaking of her head, damn it hurt. Finally she sat up and surveyed the room.

It was all concrete, concrete floor, concrete walls. All gray. No windows. Flourescent lights hummed above her. A table and two chairs were in a corner near a heavily reinforced and shut door that was obviously the way in and out. On the other side was a small room that looked to be a bathroom. She strained her ears for any sound but except for the lights all was silent.

Slowly she stood up, leaning against the wall to support herself. She made her way to the table and sat down on one of the steel chairs, still scanning the room. Eventually she found what she expected to find, a small camera near the ceiling. It was pointed right at her and she gave it a wave and an obscene gesture.

'If anyone is watching that ought to get their attention' she thought to herself. As she waited she gingerly touched the wound on the back of her head. Her hair was crusty with dried blood and she swore to herself if she found the bastard that did it she'd make sure he would never find his balls. As she sat she noticed a large reddish brown stain on the wall closest to the door. It spread all the way to the floor where it had pooled in a large congealing mass.

'That ain't paint.' she thought uneasily.

The silence was broken by someone at the door and she jumped. It was being unlocked. Her muscles tensed and she enertained the notion of picking up a chair and bashing the brains in of the first person who came through the door. No luck, on closer inspection she found the chairs and table securely bolted to the floor.

Better to just sit and stay calm, find out what was going on. It could just be a mistake, there was no reason for him to want her...

The door clanged open and it was _he_ that came in.

Dressed in the same coat she had seen him in earlier he strode in, grinning his bloody scarred smile, staring her down immediately. He moved with confidence and even grace. She had expected him to come in hopping and giggling like a loon but he looked like he could revert to that easily.

"Well helloooo Samantha" he greeted, sitting down easily on the chair next to her. She saw that he was carrying her purse.

'Well hellooo there ugly' she thought angrily but wisely held her tongue.

"Nice purse." she commented.

"Yes it is! And soooo many int-er-esting things in it." He shook it at her mockingly.

"I would guess that's how you know my name. You went through my wallet didn't you?"

"Oh Sam I went through every-thing! You know you are very pretty, you don't look in your thirties at all. But what I want to know is...what is this?" He held up her bottle of painkillers and cocked an eyebrow at her as if he had caught her being bad.

"Those are my pain pills. What, are you gonna preach to me about them too like everyone else does?"

He giggled. "Oh no no no. In fact I bet you need them right now don't you?" With that he handed them over to her.

"Yeah I could use one or two after getting cracked in the head. Thanks for giving the order for that by the way."

He leaned closer to her. She noted somewhat absently he smelled of gasoline.

'Add in some sulphur and he'd be a demon' she thought. She had never seen a more demonic, evil looking human being in her entire life. It was actually hard to believe he _was_ a human.

"Yes well I'm soo sorry about that. I decided I wanted to, ah, borrow you."

Samantha blanched. "_Borrow me? _Why?_"_

"Well I was going to kill you you know. I could have gotten a few more miles from that truck if you had not been in my way." He smiled brightly. "But...But! When you said your little ummm...line about the light being green..."

"Red. The light was red."

"Red! Well then I decided you might be worth saving."

"Then why didn't you just let me go?"

He giggled like a hyena. "Why would I let you go when you interest me, hmmm? That would be such a waste." With those words he reached out and ran his gloved fingers over her face, then pulled a strand of her hair. She felt like she were being examined and it took everything she had not to pull away. "Umm no, I wanted to keep you."

She swallowed hard. "So based on one lame sentence and my not so spectacular looks you decided to kidnap me. Great. You know, there's a lot women in Gotham ten times better looking and more witty than me."

"Maybe so maybe so, but I _see_ you. I see something in you that not many people have. You are spec-ial aren't you Sam? Hm? You know you are."

She shifted nervously. "I've got no idea what you are talking about. I'm just a regular person that would like to be home right now. I've got a job, somewhat of a life, I'm _normal_. I'm not interesting. All I've ever wanted was to be left alone, to be under the radar. Maybe you should go find one of those girls that are always drooling over you in the internet. They'd love this. Have you read the comments section under Joker stories in the Gotham Sentinel? Christ, it's like a Joker fanclub in th... "

He abruptly stood up and moved closer to her. Samantha did not like the feeling of him towering over her, so she too stood, which seemed to please him immensely.

"You see, you are different. You stood when most people" He smiled and splayed his hands out, making a point. "would have backed away. Would have cow-ered...like a dog. Now take your pills for your pain. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

'Well that's ironic' she thought archly.

As if he could read her thoughts he gave a laugh and simply left. He had left her purse on the table.

--

Later on she stood in the tiny bathroom splashing cold water over her face. She saw with much relief there was no camera in here and so she decided to stay there for a bit. For a while she simply looked into the dusty mirror, staring into her own green eyes, wondering how she would get herself out of this one. After a while she stopped seeing herself and was lost in thought.

She had no husband, no kids, a nice peaceful life, all the freedom she wanted (well she _did_ have that at one time) and now here she was. A thirty three year old woman, a nobody, held captive by Gotham's most notorious criminal for no better reason than...

Than what? Curiosity? If he was curious about her it was the same curiosity a snake had for a nest of baby mice. Maybe it was just a random game for him. He was crazy after all. She tried not to think of what he planned on doing to her. Somehow though it seemed like even he didn't know what he would do with her...yet.

Samantha focused back on her reflection and sighed. She had to hold onto the hope that someone had witnessed her kidnapping, even at that late hour someone _had_ to have seen something. Not to mention her car would be found, the semi truck too, her license plates run...yes the police would realize something had happened to her and start looking.

Whether they found her or not was another story.


	4. Chapter 4 Dubious entertainment

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Samantha.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Dubious entertainment

It had been three or four days since she was taken and she hadn't seen the Joker since his first visit. The waiting was excruciating. In her boredom she filled her empty time by taunting his men when they came to bring her meals. She knew as long as she didn't push too hard she could get away with it. It was increasingly clear the Joker didn't want her harmed yet and she counted on the fact that their fear of him outweighed anything she might say to them.

"Hey nice masks," she said as they brought her a greasy bag of food. There were two of them, one carried the food, the other hovered near the door clutching an automatic rifle. "Too bad about your choice of employer."

They ignored her as they always did so she continued.

"Tell me, is there a retirement plan with him or is not dying within a week considered a perk?" She looked at them expectantly, knowing good and well they would say nothing.

She wished she could see their faces. The impassiveness of the masks was disconcerting. Plus she disliked clowns, always had.

As if she didn't exist the food carrier threw the bag onto the table along with a twenty ounce bottle of soda.

Samantha decided to take one last swipe at them before they left. They were aiding her captivity after all and it would more than likely be a while before she got anymore entertainment.

"Do you think Maroni's men have to worry about being used as human shields?" she asked innocently, remembering a news report she had seen a while back that claimed the Joker would throw his own men in front of him to save himself. Still no reaction.

"You're just fodder you know. _Cattle._" She had their full attention now. Their faces were turned towards her, knuckles white.

"How often does he go off on one of his apeshit tantrums and take some of his own men out? Bet it happens a lot, huh?" She smiled with false pity at them.

"I'm sure he pays you nicely though. Right?? Because if he didn't, well that would just be _wrong_, considering what you risk and all. _Surely _he does."

She lowered her voice in mock secrecy. "Still...If I were you boys I'd turn in my resignation papers and get the hell out of town."

For a moment they stood frozen while she smiled at them wickedly. How she wished she could see their faces!

Finally they turned on their heels and left, slamming the door loudly.

As she listened to the door being relocked she grinned to herself. If she kept it up the Joker might have a mutiny on his hands, or one of his men would lose his cool and come after her.

--

The sound of locks coming undone alerted her to another visitor. It had been a couple of hours since she had mocked the Joker's men and she had been expecting someone to come. She stiffened instinctively, then forced herself to relax, slumping in her chair nonchalantly.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw it was the Joker himself and her heart quickened. She preferred not to think why, dismissing it uneasily as fear.

He sat down at the table and cleared his throat loudly when she didn't look at him. She raised her eyes up to his and immediately got a sense of being studied, picked apart, and she disliked it intensely.

Sensing her discomfort he smiled pleasantly at her and tented his hands on the table.

"So I hear you're being, ah, cruel to my men." he stated, looking amused.

"Yeah? It's true. They should get a thicker skin. I mean, look who they work for."

"Well _someone_ is feisty today" he remarked happily.

"Not so much feisty as bored senseless and tired of being in here." She wondered how far she could press him and quickly decided he was too unpredictable to safely mess around with.

"And" she added "I haven't had a shower in days. Kind of makes one irritable."

"There's a shower in the bathroom. Use it."

"I _know_ there is but I really don't like the idea of you or your boys coming in on me. Plus how do I know there's not a camera in there too?" She knew there wasn't but felt like giving him a hard time about it.

He looked at her as if she were stupid. "My men won't bother you and I can assure you there's no camera in there." His gaze went up and down her body, tongue flicking out as if he were imagining what she tasted like, a blatant attempt to make her uncomfortable.

"And if _I_ wanted to 'come in on you' as you put it I'd have done it whether you were in the shower or not."

Before she could stop herself she heard herself say "Well why haven't you?" and was immediately mortified. She didn't mean it like it sounded but there it was.

'Nice going,' she seethed to herself 'That sounded like you want him to do just that.'

He moved forward a bit. "Dis-app-ointed?"

"No, I'm not." She wasn't willing to push it any further.

"Good" he smiled "Wouldn't want you to be dis-satisfied with me."

Before she could respond he hopped up, suddenly excited, looking like a slightly demented child on Christmas day. "Now" he said "enough of the chit chat, hm? One of my men that you spoke to earlier decided to, ah, _confront_ me." He lowered his voice and looked disgusted. "Seems he wants more money. And when I asked him why he suddenly wanted more money when I give him plen-ty..."

He glowered down at her, a mixture of glee and disapproval on his face. "he said...and I quote! 'That girl you're holding said we deserve more money for our risks' Can you be-lieve that!" He broke off into peals of laughter and Sam found herself shrinking back in her chair despite herself.

"Sooooooo" he continued, making his way to the door "I decided to teach him a less-on in, ah, etiquette." His gloved fist banged on the door loudly and it creaked open. To her dismay two minions drug in one unmasked man, presumably the one who wanted a raise. He was already bleeding from his nose and his eyes were wild with terror.

Standing next to the man the Joker presented him to Samantha proudly, as if introducing a dear friend. "But I think the lesson will, ha, _stick_ better if I do it here. With you watching. Don't you think Samantha?"


	5. Chapter 5 Apologies

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Samantha.

**A/N**: Flashbacks are in italics.

A big thanks to my reviewers!

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Apologies

"No" Sam said "whatever you're gonna..." she started to rise from the chair but one of the thugs came and held her down by the shoulders.

"Oh no now, you gave him the idea Saman-tha. I think you should be here to see me, haha, decline his request. You see...greed is a bad thing." The Joker was now looking right at the man. "What was your name again?"

The man choked back a sob. "Robert."

"Robert! Greed is a bad thing Robert. Samantha should have told you that. Oh and did I introduce you two? No, I didn't." His eyes were glittering manically. "Samantha meet Robert, Robert meet Samantha. There, now we can get on with it."

Samantha felt her breath coming in short shallow bursts. "Look, don't do this. I was just..."

The Joker turned on her, rage etched into his face but still smiling. "No, you had your turn Sam. I think maybe you should shut up. Right. Now." In a flash his switchblade was in one hand. "Before you get, ah, in some trouble you won't be able to get out of. Understand?"

She didn't answer. She glared at him, infuriated, hating him more than she had ever hated anyone.

"Hm? ANSWER ME!" Before she could react he was right there, in front of her, the tip of the knife level with her eyeball.

"Yes, yes ok." She hated herself for her weakness at that moment.

The Joker nodded and patted her cheek approvingly then was back to Robert. "Now Rob-ert, as I was saying. Greed is bad, money is..." he held his hand out and whirled it like a bird taking flight "fleeting. The only thing it is good for is fin-ancing things. Things for the great-er good, like what I do. Of course a simple rap-ist and goon would not understand that would he?"

Glancing over his shoulder at Samantha, gesturing towards Robert with his knife he said "Did you know he's a rapist? Didn't you screw your own daughter Robert? Hm? Pretty sick guy even by my standards." He edged closer to Robert, knife still in hand.

Samantha could see him getting ready to do it, could see the way his body tensed, and she screamed, suddenly not caring if he would kill her too.

Ignoring her, smiling giddily, the Joker sliced Robert from chest to below his navel. One savage downward motion through clothes and meat and it was done. The man holding him let him drop to the floor and Robert lay there, blood spreading around him, partially eviscerated.

"NO!!" Samantha screamed and thrashed furiously in her chair. The thug behind her held her fast, laughing at her, and seeing the futility of it she squeezed her eyes shut. Her breath was coming in hysterical hitches now and she willed herself to not cry.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" she chanted.

"Oh no sweetie. You did this, you open your eyes and watch or I'll open them for you." the Joker warned and thinking of the knife at her eye she complied.

Moaning piteously, Robert was trying to crawl away, painfully heading for the door. The Joker bent down and asked him lightly "So, still want that raise?" Then Samantha heard the _ching!_ sound of metal uncoiling and to her horror she saw a blade had unsheathed itself from his shoe.

Gasping for air, unable to move she watched as he kicked Robert over and over until he no longer moved or made a sound. Even then he still kicked him for a while, giggling with unrestrained joy while he did so. The sound of the blade slicing into soft flesh with an occasional scraping sound as it nicked a rib reverberated in her mind.

Numbed with horror and guilt she realized that he was making a point and teaching her a lesson at the same time.

After he was sated he had his minion drag Robert's body out of the room. Before leaving the Joker shot Samantha a knowing wink. She stared at him with hollow dry eyes, saying nothing.

Robert's blood stayed on the floor, a permanent reminder of her lesson.

Later that night she lay on her mattress, her mind going back to two years ago and her first brush with another human monster.

--

_Frozen in disgust and a horrified fascination she turned the pictures over and over in her hand. Polaroids of women's misfortune in his closet, shut away in a place where most men had porn mags. Automatically her mind tried to find excuses._

_'Maybe it's for police stuff. Forensics, crime scene analysis...' But Samantha was not naive, there was only one reason why he had these photos._

_Feeling ill she wondered if that's what drew David to her in the first place. Seeing her almost dead and cold in the snow that night. The thought of that was too much and she tossed the pictures back into the closet, hurrying out of his apartment and driving home._

_That next night she had had to shoot him._

_--_


	6. Chapter 6 Giving up

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Samantha.

**A/N**: Flashbacks are in italics.

A big thanks to my reviewers!

**CHAPTER SIX**

Giving up

Samantha had barely been able to move the past few days. Dragging herself off the mattress to go to the bathroom was torture. Finally she'd given up and laid down on the bathroom floor.

A week after she watched Robert die she'd noticed she was feeling bad. A cough at first, then fever. Her lungs felt like they were filled with wet cotton. She knew it was probably pneumonia and that if it went untreated she'd more than likely die. Part of her was willing to do just that, lie there on the cold concrete and let herself waste away. Her situation was increasingly hopeless, she had no clue what he wanted with her and she didn't know how much longer she could take living like this.

Shivering, struggling with every breath she curled into a ball and shut her eyes. Death was definitely preferable to feeling like this she thought. Eventually she drifted into a fitful sleep, the only escape she had.

--

_Her phone would not stop ringing. She didn't have to check her caller i.d. to know it was David. She had turned off her answering machine after the first few voice messages._

_It was only a matter of time before he came by her house. She hadn't spoken to him since early yesterday, before her discovery in his closet._

_'I really need to talk to him' she thought. But what would she say? Just break up with him with no explanation? They had been getting along great so he would be suspicious. And anyway she wanted to ask him about the pictures. She knew why he had them, knew they had been taken from his work and it disgusted and frightened her._

_Absently she chewed her thumbnail, considering what to do. What would his reaction be when she confronted him? Hell, he might kill himself. Having your girlfriend find out you were a closet necrophiliac was bound to be traumatic. And he was a cop..._

_"This is very bad" she said aloud._

--

The two men tromped away from the girl's cell to the boss's "office" which was little more than a tiny utility room equipped with chair, table and several tv screens showing live images of all the cameras in his hideout. The boss had sent them to check on her when he noticed she'd been in the bathroom for a day. They were not looking forward to giving him the news she was sick, very sick.

The door was open and he was visible, slumped in his chair, staring at the tv screens but not seeming to see them.

"Hey Boss" one of them said quietly.

His eyes snapped to them and he nodded, giving them the go ahead to continue.

"She ain't well. She looks like she's gonna die."

The Joker's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure she's not pretending?" he asked.

"No, she's in real bad shape. Her breathing is real bad, rattling. Probably pneumonia or something. When she talks she don't make any sense." the man paused "We haven't touched her though."

They knew touching her was strictly forbidden, unless he said it was okay and they wanted the boss to know they had stuck to the rules.

The Joker's dark eyes looked them over appraisingly. Finally he said "Fine, I'll look at her."

--

He knelt next to her, looking her over. Her breath was a painful clatter in her chest, eyes sunken. She had visibly lost weight and was burning hot to the touch. Her eyes were half open but she did not see him.

He rocked back on his heels, regarding her. He could let her die or put her out of her misery right now but he didn't really want to do that. He couldn't say why. Maybe because he was still curious about her. There was still a lot to do and having her die would spoil things.

Gently he reached out and stroked her hair. It was matted to her skull and wet with sweat. He thought she flinched just a bit but it could have been his imagination. Seeing her so helpless, without that defiant look and baffling stoicism was strange. He almost missed it.

"I hope you didn't think you could get away by dying on me." he whispered, still stroking her hair. With amusement he realized this would be the first time he'd ever attempted to _prevent_ someone from dying. Funny.

--

Samantha was back on her mattress, covered in a blanket that she had not had before. She hazily remembered being on the bathroom floor, alone and waiting to die. But then _he_ came to her and she was aware of him next to her, touching her hair almost tenderly. He had whispered something to her about not dying on him.

After that his men came and gave her a shot twice a day every day and forced her to drink. She was too weak to fight them and so she allowed it. Half the time she had no idea what was going on, if she were dreaming or awake. Sometimes she thought she might be in the hospital but then she'd get a look at the clown masks or _his_ face and that idea would come crashing down.

He was present each time to watch the men give her the shots, snarling at them when they did something wrong. He was the one who made her drink. He would sit next to her, holding her up, talking to her in that voice, sometimes a mocking singsong, sometimes serious. He would tell her she would live, that she couldn't get away from him that easily. The despair she would normally feel at those words was replaced by something else, a grasping desperation, a need. She was aware of wrapping her arms around him while he was holding her up to drink and not wanting to let go. In her sickness she had lost her awareness. All she knew is she didn't want to die alone, didn't want to lie on a dingy mattress in her own sweat and misery with no one to care. He was the only one to help her and he didn't have to. He could have watched her die and he was saving her instead. In her feverish mind this was both a revelation and a riddle.

"Awww isn't she so nice." he hissed in her ear one day while she was clinging to him. "So sweet, like a little kit-ten. You sure have, ha, changed Sam. You like me now, hm?"

She could feel his hands on her back, holding her up, could smell the familiar gasoline scent, could vaguely see the black eyes, white face and hideous mouth but oddly it didn't bother her. All she cared about was feeling him, another human being, holding her.

Then she was aware of him walking her to the bathroom. He was saying something that she didn't understand. Her feet tried to move but they were lead weights and she stumbled. He laughed and pulled her the rest of the way.

They were in the bathroom and she heard water running in the sink. She was sitting, back against the wall. Then his voice, almost normal sounding for once.

"Let's get you cleaned up Sam." Hands working at the buttons on her shirt.

Alarmed, she tried to stand. He easily held her down, talking to her, calming her.

"Sh sh now Sam. I'm not going to hurt you. It's okay."

She relaxed. She was so tired, so weak...she didn't have a fight in her anyway and he knew it.

Cool air as her shirt came off, then a warm washcloth against her bare flesh. She stiffened and then his mouth was at her ear, hot breath making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

"It's ok. I won't hurt you." he repeated, more urgently. She sighed and relaxed, giving in.

He was undoing her jeans, mouth still at her ear, whispering things she didn't understand but that soothed her.

Then she was naked, her bare skin pressed against his clothed body. The washcloth glided over her back and suddenly she was aware of his scarred lips on her mouth, brushing her gently.

"So beautiful" he sighed in a tone of voice she had never heard from him and she noticed his breathing had quickened. So had hers. The washcloth made its way to her breasts and still she clung to him. Down to her stomach, then between her legs and she gasped faintly. His face pushed against her neck. Through her daze she realized what was happening but instead of being disgusted or horrified she was strangely excited. She _wanted_ him against her like this. It was wrong but he felt good to her.

He put the washcloth aside and she felt the smooth leather of his gloves rhythmically stroking up and down the inside of her arms, making her shiver. With delirious excitement she realized he had an erection and she pushed against him more insistently. As sick as she was she felt warm and blissful. It wasn't normal.

"What kind of shots are you...giving me?" she whispered.

Laughing softly, nuzzling her neck and her face, he answered "Oh the usual. Antiobiotics...and some, ah, morphine. You like it?"

Well that explained it.

"I don't know." she answered "I shouldn't be doing...this. Not right." Just talking put her out of breath.

"Not right? But it feels good dosen't it? Hm? Don't you want to feel good Samantha? Aren't you tired of..._fighting_?" That demonic face with his eyes suddenly so solemn.

"I just don't want to die. Thank you for helping me." she answered groggily. The drug was coursing through her veins, warping everything. She couldn't get past the fact she was naked and helpless in the arms of this monster and liked it.

Smiling at her, scarred mouth a crimson blur, he said nothing. He held her tight and after a while she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder, enveloped in his arms.


	7. Chapter 7 Recoverance

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Samantha and David.

**A/N**: Flashbacks are in italics. From here on out it's gonna get a little more explicit.

A big thanks to my reviewers!

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Recoverance

_When her phone stopped ringing she started getting more nervous. It was only a matter of time until he came to her house._

_She sat in her kitchen, untouched cup of black coffee in front of her. She was still gnawing on her thumbnail, eyes fixed somewhere in space. A thousand things went through her mind. His odd sexual preferences for one thing. Most men liked some enthusiasm in bed. Not David. The more still she was the more he liked it. Occasionally he would ask if he could put his hands or a forearm on her neck and pretend like he was choking her. He never did it very hard and she chalked it up to an S/M type quirk. It was a bit different but who was she to judge? She liked it a little rough herself and he wasn't actually hurting her so..._

_"Try to slow your breathing as much as you can." he'd say and when she complied his pupils would dilate and his breath would start to come fast and hard. And she liked it. She liked how excited he got. There was no denying it._

_'But I didn't know what he was into' she thought to herself. And truly, how was she supposed to know?_

_Those pictures. Blood and dead white skin garish under the flash of a Polaroid. Some bodies fresh, some decomposing...all collected for his entertainment. And her, lying in the snow. Hypothermic, fractured bone sticking out of the flesh of her shin. David lying next to her, 'keeping her warm' until the ambulance arrived. _

_Samantha squeezed her eyes shut, feeling like her chest would burst from shame, anger, and pure disgust._

_Loud knocking on her door made her eyes snap open. The doorbell rang, then knocking again, more insistent this time._

_--_

As she recovered she no longer let him near her. Gone were the times of her clinging to him. She remembered that and it angered her. Knowing about the morphine made it easier to cope with but she still didn't like the idea of what had happened.

He had played a twisted version of good cop bad cop with her, kidnapping her, killing a man while she was forced to watch, letting her lay half dead on a bathroom floor then bringing her back from the brink, keeping her alive, caring for her.

And then there was the incident of him undressing her in the bathroom and the washcloth. No sex had happened but she remembered being excited, of _liking_ it. And dear God he'd had a hardon. In a way she thought it was hilarious but the thought of it made her flush and not just with embarrassment. The calculating part of her mind realized he hadn't counted on that happening. He had merely been playing one of his mindfuck games and then...oops. She was sure most of his erections ocurred from killing and torture, not mundane things like having a naked woman against him.

'I bet he hopes I don't remember that' she thought slyly. To show lust would lessen his power a bit, unless he wielded it as a weapon.

Still, her mind always went back to him holding her in his arms while she went to sleep on his shoulder. Which, she supposed, was why he did it in the first place. It was all a game to keep her off balance with him. Ever practical, she tried to find ways to work that to her advantage.

--

He had become more solicitous of her after her illness. He started bringing her books, mostly crime books and random biographies of everyone from Stalin to Walt Disney (She noticed with some amusement they had all been taken from Gotham City Public Library) He had even brought her clothes, her own clothes from her house that he told her he had broken into. When she ran out of her painkillers he brought her more.

Each day he would come in once or twice and just talk. It was clear he was unused to actual conversations and Samantha, no talker herself, didn't mind. Mostly he would rave darkly about the hypocrisy of the world and how he'd like to see it all overthrown. There was an underlying hurt in his speeches, a spitefulness lurking in his anarchic ideas. He was extremely intelligent and his viewpoints, though crazed, were interesting to say the least.

The changing cadence of his voice, from high pitched to the long drawn out syllables to his growling low tone was hypnotizing. Samantha would listen to him and say little. She didn't want to let this disturbed man into her mind, didn't want him to know more about her than he already did (and she suspected he knew quite a lot). She tried to keep her distance and not become emotionally invested in his visits but in her isolation it was hard to do. It was becoming harder to remind herself that he was a monster.

And that camera, the camera followed her around constantly. Its lense was an extension of his own dark eyes and she could feel his gaze through it.

Then she didn't see him for a few days. His men brought her food twice a day. It _had_ been him bringing it. She asked a few questions when they came in but they would say nothing, impassive with their guns and faded clown masks and she would ask no more. The lesson he had taught her with Robert was well remembered.

She began to wonder if her time was almost up. Maybe he was bored with the game and thinking of an inventive way of doing her in.

'Maybe I should have revealed more about myself' she thought to herself. 'To keep his interest. Once he gets tired of this I'm dead.' This was no kind of life but she was still hopeful she could get out alive. She had been through a lot and counted this as just another trial to challenge her. If she could just make it out of this...

And then one day he was back, like he had never been gone, never telling her where he'd been. He acted a little differently. He was quieter and sometimes he would come in, say a few words and then simply stare at her as if he were considering what he was going to do with her. And those eyes. Dead yet burning, burning with something she recognized and that recognition made her shudder with dread and a twisted longing. Sleep became difficult. There were dreams of him that woke her, shaking, covered in a fine sweat and utterly excited. The frustration and boredom of captivity was taking its toll.

She had once thought him incredibly ugly but after being around him and studying him closely she had changed her mind. He was a mixture of ugliness and beauty, a demonic creature both elegant and decrepit with no care to his appearance beyond his suit. He radiated feral magnetism and she thought the way his tongue roved his scars was darkly erotic. She wanted to explore them with her own tongue. Often as she listened to him talk or watched him walk into her room she felt a predatory twinge, a stirring of her treacherous libido. Uncomfortably she acknowledged the things that happened while she had pneumonia had stirred feelings in her that would not go away. She wondered if he knew how she felt. Like any effective predator he was an uncanny reader of weakness and if he found out she had no idea what he would do.

She began to wonder 'How far will I go just to survive this?'

But she knew she was only kidding herself. Anything she might do with him wouldn't be done just for self preservation. And if he wanted to play a game she would get what she wanted from it too.

**A/N:** This is my first fanfiction and the first thing I've written in fifteen years so bear with me on it. Also, this isn't meant to be a love story. I really don't like happily ever afters or the idea of love changing a monster into a prince. I honestly don't think someone like the Joker is capable of love. The ability for him to love ruins everything that is fascinating and attractive about him. Samantha herself is not capable of love but she understands only too well the emotion of lust, as does the Joker. She also knows about guilt and culpability, which may or may not be her downfall.


	8. Chapter 8 Release

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Samantha and David.

**A/N**: Flashbacks are in italics. **WARNING:** There is **SEX** in this chapter. Yes, that's right...**SEX**, ha.

A big thanks to my reviewers!

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Release

_"Samantha I know you're home. Come on, let me in."_

_She stood there in her hallway, staring at the door, hand extended to grasp the doorknob. Her heart was thumping in her chest so hard it made her dizzy._

_"Samantha damn. What's the problem?" He sounded annoyed now._

_Gritting her teeth she let him in._

_--_

He was in a strange (well stranger than usual) mood today. They were both sitting in their usual seats at the table when he leaned close to her, putting both hands on her upper arms and his face very close to hers. It was evident he wanted to scoot closer to her but the bolted down chairs prevented this.

Samantha calmly looked at him, the same way you would look at a fierce dog you weren't sure about and didn't want to anger. Her anxiety was skyrocketing. She tried to read something on his face, tried to see past the paint and scars. She could see something there but what she thought it was frightened her.

"Sam" he said in a strange whisper.

"What?" she asked, voice calm.

He looked away from her and her mind screamed WATCH OUT. Something in his body language wasn't right. He was tensed up, reminding her of right before he had disemboweled Robert. Instinctively she got ready to jump out of the chair.

"I haven't hurt you...have I?"

"Physically no." she answered carefully.

He responded with a chuckle and quick as a flash, before she could even react he was up, taking her with him, and she was slammed against the wall, head connecting painfully with the concrete.

"What the hell are you doing?" she gasped, trying to squirm out of his grasp. "Let me go."

He responded by pushing her harder and then she saw his eyes. The change in them took her breath away with fear and a few other feelings she wasn't comfortable with. They were blazing wild, completely and utterly inhuman.

She worked an arm out of his grip and managed to push away from him. He came after her and she punched him, catching the side of his face.

He only laughed, seeming to like the punch and shoved his body against her hard. She was crushed between him and the wall and seeing nothing else to do she brought her head forward and sank her teeth into his neck.

In response he gave something between a laugh and a moan and ground himself into her, as if encouraging her, and she let go, dismayed.

'Jesus, he _likes_ it' she thought 'I clamp into his throat like a pitbull and it turns him on.' Despite herself she liked that idea, could feel her body responding to him. He knew it too.

He delivered a slap to her face, hard enough to momentarily daze her. She glared at him, enraged.

"Now as I was, ah, about to say" he hissed. "I don't want to be good around you anymore. Do you under-stand me?" His grip tightened on her arms, pulling them over her head. His voice had went very very low and Samantha knew that meant trouble.

Then she noticed he had turned the camera off. That pulsing red light she had grown so accustomed to was gone.

"What do you mean?" her throat was suddenly tight.

"Oh you know exactly what I mean Sam. Did you know I watch you sometimes while you are asleep? So still and pretty. I imagine that's what you looked like after the wreck. You remember the wreck don't you? Tell me...how did it feel to have your leg frac-tured?"

She stopped struggling. "_How_ did you know about that?"

"I know a lot of things beautiful." His voice was husky with lust. "And you _are_ beautiful you know." His hand suddenly slipped down to caress her throat, nearly making her panic in fear and desire. He was moving closer, lips almost at hers.

"I know you like it rough. Violent even." his voice was an insidious thing. "This makes you wet, dosen't it? Hm? Maybe I should take my knife out and show you what rough _really_ is. Oh you have no idea Sam, how _rough_ I can be. I would make you scream."

Eyes narrowed, refusing to be cowed, she spat back "You like pain more than I do. Get that knife out and I'll give it to you. You'll beg for more." She grinned at him, his blood in her teeth.

He considered her for a moment, expression unreadable. "Oh I'm sure I would. Maybe lat-er though."

And then he was kissing her and she was letting him. _And she liked it._ His tongue darted out into her mouth and she devoured it. She could feel his scars under her lips, on her tongue and it made her feel crazy, as if whatever was wrong with him had infected her. All the stress of the past few weeks was building up, gaining momentum into something she could not and would not stop.

His hand went from her neck down the front of her body and rested between her legs. He began to rub her, finding her spot and circling his fingers over it. Samantha gave a little gasp and pushed her hips into his hand.

Pulling away from their kiss he stared at her intently. "I _know_ what you really want. You want release, _don't you_?"

"Yes" she breathed. She knew exactly what kind of release he meant and she wanted it so badly she could taste it. This was all kinds of wrong but it felt so good and she was in the zone where desire ruled, where nothing was taboo. She wanted him and wanted him now. Feel bad about it later.

"All the things I've done, people I've killed and you'd still have me fuck you right now wouldn't you?" A mocking chuckle issued from his throat.

"Yes" she whispered. Her hand went to his groin and felt him, he was rock hard. He gave a sharp intake of breath at her touch. She could see him wrestling with control and losing.

"Over the table. Now." he snarled and not waiting for a response he shoved her over the table and pulled her jeans down.

Then his hand was on her, feeling her wetness, and his breathing escalated. Samantha could feel his hand shaking.

"My my" he growled into her ear "somebody is ex-cit-ed."

"I want you inside of me" she whispered, not caring about anything but having him. She could see the bloodstained floor and wall in front of her and for once it didn't bother her. Nothing mattered but this. "Please. Now."

"Oh, so you're gonna beg for it, hm? Good girl."

She felt him sliding inside her, slowly, teasingly. He was suprisingly big, and she cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Take it" he snarled, his voice as dangerous as she had ever heard it, and started slamming into her hard. She moved with him, making sure she got all of him with each stroke. Reaching down she began to stimulate herself and when he noticed this it made him wilder.

She was so worked up it only took a few minutes of him being inside her before she felt herself losing control and from the sound of his breathing he wasn't going to last much longer either.

"Oh my god do it faster. please. please. give me more" she begged, all reason gone. "I can't stand this, I'm going to come." Need had driven her to the edge and as good as this felt she wanted the culmination, wanted more than anything to have an orgasm with this deadly man on top of her.

"Then do it" he said harshly. "show me how much you want it." He shifted his full weight on her, lying on top of her, going faster and faster, pinning her down.

She screamed as she came, unable to help it, digging her fingers into his forearm, and he put a gloved hand over her mouth. Then he pulled her head to the side, covering her mouth with his

A moment later he came deep inside her, gasping, sinking his teeth into the nape of her neck.

"There is your re-lease Samantha." he hissed coldly as his strokes decreased and finally stopped.

For a while he lay on top of her, face buried in her hair, his breathing ragged, then gradually calming. Samantha lay frozen underneath him.

'Is this where he kills me?' she thought. 'What the hell have I just done?'

Eventually he stood up and she heard him fiddling with his clothes. Then the sound of the door shutting and being locked.

He was gone.

For a long while she lay there on the table. A song she used to listen to came into her mind unbidden and she shut her eyes tightly, wanting to be back home, wanting to rewind it all. When she finally opened her eyes she found she had went nowhere at all.

_She burns like the sun, and I can't look away_

_She'll burn our horizons, make no mistake_

_And I'll hide from the world behind a broken frame_

_And I'll burn forever, I can't face the shame_

_And I'll feel a guilty conscience grow..._

--

_"Where the hell have you been? You weren't at my house last night. You haven't answered my calls? Why?" He sounded hurt. He was still in uniform she noted. Must have come straight to her house after his shift._

_They were standing in her kitchen. Samantha tried to stay far away from him but he kept coming closer, puzzled, not knowing why she was suddenly being like this with him._

_"David...I don't know what to say. I need to talk to you but I just don't know how to say it." She already felt like she was going to throw up._

_He held his hands out helplessly. Samantha thought with horrified fascination how boyish and handsome he looked. How could someone who looked like this be so..._

_So sick._

_"What did I do Sam?" he asked._

_She swallowed, steeling herself._

_"The closet." she said simply. "I saw what was in your closet."_

_--_

**A/N: **The song lyrics are "Sunburn" by Muse.


	9. Chapter 9 No shades of gray

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Samantha and David.

**A/N**: Flashbacks are in italics.

A big thanks to my reviewers!

**CHAPTER NINE**

No shades of gray

_"What do you mean you saw what was in my closet?" His brow was furrowed, pretending to be confused. He was a lousy liar._

_"Don't, ok? Just...don't. I _saw_ the pictures." Part of her wanted him to come up with a great excuse that would neatly explain everything so she could be wrong. Then everything would be all right again._

_Instead a shadow crossed over his face. It was obvious he saw no way out of this, the truth had come out and so the real David was coming out._

_There was no point in hiding anymore. _

_"And why were you snooping around in my closet in the first place?" The sound of his voice had turned tense, all hint of innocence gone._

_"I'm sorry about that but don't change the subject. What the hell David? Pictures of _dead _women? And I know where you got them. You stole them from work didn't you?" She was getting angrier but fought to control her voice._

_He said nothing, his lips were turning upwards into a faint smile and it seemed he had come to a decision about something. Samantha knew then it was time to get away. She'd never seriously thought he might do something to her when confronted. But now..._

_She backed away, thinking to go out the kitchen door that led to the driveway but he had already anticipated this. He charged at her and she felt a jolt that immediately brought her to her knees. He had tasered her. While the electricity coursed through her body she could not move. The pain was excruciating and she instinctively went limp, wanting it to stop._

_It did stop and when it did he straddled her, forcing her arms behind her back. She felt cold metal snake over her wrists and clamp down hard into her skin._

_Gasping, about to throw up she managed to say "Handcuffs? What are you going to do, arrest me?"_

_"No" he answered shortly, hauling her up and pushing her towards her bedroom. As he did so he began to laugh at her and she knew this was going to be very very bad._

_--_

Shortly after he left her she noticed the camera was back on, blinking mockingly. Finally she stood up, feeling warmth running down the insides of her thighs. She went straight to the tiny bathroom, her only escape from the camera, and took a shower. She wanted to hate herself for what had happened, wanted to be ashamed, but it had felt incredible and it had been intense to a degree she'd never before experienced.

'Screwing psycopathic murderers who have kidnapped you is never a good idea. No matter how good it might feel.' she scolded herself angrily. 'You're lucky he didn't cut your throat while he had you over that table.' Something told her that very idea had probably entered his mind too.

After that night she did not see him, which was a relief.

--

A couple of days later three of his clown masked henchmen rolled a metal stand into her room. Atop it sat a small television and vcr. As two stood watch one plugged it in and placed a remote control on the table. Turning the tv on, he looked pointedly at her.

"_He_ wants you to watch the news. It's coming on now. After that watch the tape in the VCR." With that all three left, leaving her baffled. A tv? Something was definitely going on.

Samantha turned her attention to the tv. When she saw the top story a sick feeling washed over her. She leaned forward, chin in palm and listened to the anchorman.

"Authorities have still not said who the culprit may be for the bombing of Gotham City Hall but they have acknowledged it was a deliberate attack, not an accident."

The picture cut to a smouldering building, not completely destroyed but almost unrecognizable as the building she had seen many times.

"Widespread destruction, several injuries. The death toll has not been released but officials have told us city hall had been evacuated before the explosion. This is just one of many incidents plaguing Gotham City in the past few weeks."

Then a cut to a press conference sound bite given by a very tired and haggard looking Commissioner Gordon. He looked like he'd aged twenty years from the last time she'd seen him on the news. Samantha felt sorry for him.

"We have no indication of why someone would do this and there are no suspects at this time." he snapped at the swarm of reporters yelling questions at him. "Right now our main priority is finding any survivors and that's ALL I have to say at this moment."

"Some wonder if the man who calls himself simply "The Joker" may be responsible." the anchorman intoned ominously and the screen cut to a clip from the Brian Douglas video.

"_Tell them your naaame_." His taunting voice came from the speakers but it was as if he were in the room with her.

Samantha felt her stomach turn into knots and burn like she had swallowed acid.

'The bastard blew city hall up." she thought wildly "And he wants me to know he did it. Like he's showing off.'

After the news was over she took a deep breath and pressed the PLAY button on the VCR.

First static, then abruptly the blurry image of a dim, dingy room much like the one she was in now. The camera shook like it was being carried and the picture was shaky. It finally settled onto a surface and focused on a seated figure. In the gloom she could make out a ghost white face and eyes like the sockets of a skull. A light flicked on somewhere, brightening the image and there he sat. Red mouth set in a grin he sat quietly, eyes shut. In the background she could hear dogs barking furiously and some shouting. He opened his eyes, glanced off-camera and smirked. Then he settled his attention onto the camera.

"Hiiiii Sam" The Joker said. He had a strangely apologetic expression on his face.

"Sorry for leaving you when we, ah, when we were starting to have such a good time." he grinned, licking his lips. She could hear his tongue move over them, could hear his mouth crackle with spit.

"But I had some, uh, things to attend to. By now I'm sure you've seen the news so you know what those _things_ are. But I will be back for you. I'm gonna be _com-ing_ for you. Very very soon. We have a lot to talk about. A lot to do together." He smiled lewdly into the camera. "It'll be fun, hm?"

A loud boom came from off camera, then agonized screams. His eyes, annoyed and deadly angry, shot in the direction of the noise.

"SHUT UP!" he roared in a terrifyingly guttural voice that made her jump. He got up, heading straight for the screams. The camera clicked off.

Samantha shuddered.


	10. Chapter 10 Trust and Cruelty

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Samantha and David.

**A/N**: Flashbacks are in italics.

A big thanks to my reviewers!

**CHAPTER TEN**

Trust and Cruelty

_"Don't do this" she begged him. She hated begging but right now, handcuffed and laid out on her bed, was not the time to worry about pride._

_"Do what? I haven't done anything yet. Well nothing _too_ bad anyway." He was sitting on the side of the bed, body turned towards her, hand on her leg in an oddly fond way._

_"I won't say a thing to anyone, I swear."_

_"Nope, you won't." he said agreeably, his tone was maddeningly casual and in it she heard her doom._

_"I really liked you Samantha. Really. Do you know how bad I wanted to let you in on this?" He scooted closer to her and she couldn't help but shrink away a little. His eyes narrowed angrily at that but he chose to ignore it. For now. She'd pay for it later._

_"But I knew you'd get high and mighty over it. I can't help what I like. You think I _enjoy_ being like this?"_

_'Yes' she thought 'You probably do.'_

_"I saved your life and the way you repay me is going through my things. It's none of your business Samantha." he was working himself up and she felt panic rising in her._

_"Ya know, come to think of it I _own_ you. You'd be rotting if it weren't for me." With that he grabbed her by the hair, hauling her head up. She felt some of her hair ripping out by the roots and her eyes watered._

_His eyes searched her face. "I think you should apologize. If I like your apology maybe, and I said _maybe_, I won't blow your goddamn brains out all over this bed."_

_"I...I'm so sorry" she began "I..."_

_"NOT like that" he smirked. His hands went to his zipper and she sighed inwardly._

_In a split second she made her choice._

_--_

One night as she lay on her mattress reading she heard her door being unlocked. No one came in at this time unless it was him and she hadn't seen him in days, not since they'd had sex. She quickly stood up, then looked over her shoulder at the camera. It was off.

He came in not with his usual confident stride but with a pained walk. Saying nothing, eyes boring into hers, he came right up to her. As he got closer she could see cuts and bruises on his face, visible through the greasepaint.

"Have a rough night?" she quipped.

Still he said nothing. He looked like he wanted to kill her. Then he began to slowly circle her, deeply inhaling, his face close to her. Goosebumps traveled over her arms and under her t-shirt.

"Miss-ed me?" he growled, still circling her.

She didn't answer.

"Of course you have, but you won't admit it will you? Well I've missed you." He stopped in front of her, staring her down like he liked to do. She stared right back.

With a sudden movement he sat down in one of the chairs langorously and motioned to other one. "Come sit with me, let's talk. Or you can sit in my lap and we can do that other thing you en-joy so much, hm?" He licked his lips, cold amusement burning in his eyes.

She sat down in the chair and he giggled.

"Oh Sam I'm disappointed. I really did want you to choose the other." he mocked in a singsong voice.

"I guess I have a headache tonight" she shot back. She would try to fight it. She was pretty sure her hormones had already earned her a special place in Hell.

"Soooo" he began "I trust you watched the news and saw my, ah, tape? Did you like my work at city hall?"

"No." she answered and he laughed uproariously.

"Well Sam, think about what you didn't like while I'm fucking you later on, ok?" He leaned in close and whispered "While you're coming you can uh...give me a lecture on the immor-al-ity of it."

She knew the point he was making. For a few moments she loathed herself and loathed him for doing this to her.

"Tell me," he continued "why a nice nor-mal woman like yourself would defile herself with a man like me? Hmm? I didn't rape you but I could have if I wanted to. I still could, you know, but you know what they say about rap-ing the willing."

"Fuck you" she snapped. She'd had it. She got up and started to walk away, to where she didn't know as there was noplace to go. In a split second he was up and had her by the arms.

"No. _Fuck you_. And that's exact-ly what I'm going to do to you. Look at you, so normal and so civ-il-ized" he said the word civilized with great distaste "and yet...ah and yet... there you were bent over a table...just _begging_ me for it." He burst out into sadistic laughter.

'He's trying to break you down' she told herself. 'He's digging for info, he knows things about you that he wants you to admit, that's his thing, and he'll get more and more violent until you tell him something.'

As if to confirm this he pulled a knife out of his pocket. It had a delicate narrow blade, the kind used to fillet fish. She kept her eyes on him, hoping her impassive expression was still in place.

"No" she whispered calmly. "Put that away."

"Nooo? Why? And you seemed so adven-turous. Don't you want me, hm?"

"Yes I do. You know that. Damnit you make things so hard."

His eyes gleamed in triumph and his gloved fingers sank deeply into her wrists.

"Well well. Not so normal and civilized as we thought now are we?"

"No" she admitted. "I'm not. I'm not nice and normal and civilized and whatever the hell else you say. But you know that already. You just wanted me to admit it. Right? Well there it is."

He dragged her closer to him. She could feel him pressing against her, could feel the heat coming from his body. The sick thing was, she marvelled, is that she was more turned on than afraid.

Bringing his lips close to her ear he whispered "Do you wonder why you're not dead yet?" His hand went between her legs and he continued. "Of course you do, who wouldn't? Well I'll give you the answer. _I don't know._" His tongue flicked over her ear lightly. "Oh and for the rec-ord _you_ are the one who makes things hard."

He smiled lasciviously. "I bet you've been thinking about what we did, him? Because I have. I've always thought sex could be almost as good as...cha-os if done right. Turns out I was right. Now lie down on the mattress, I want to, ah, show you a few things."

She lowered herself down, staring at the knife in his hand. She didn't trust him with it, was afraid he might get overexcited and do her in. He saw her staring at it and smirked.

"Oh ok-ay" he said and put it back in his pocket. "Stay here a second. I want to show you something. I'll ah, be right back." He went into the bathroom and she heard the water running.

After a few minutes the water stopped and she heard him come out of the bathroom. She didn't look at him, afraid of what she might see. He knelt down next to her and she kept her eyes averted.

"Look at me," he whispered. "Now."

She did and couldn't help but recoil a bit. He had cleaned his makeup off.

'My God, he's younger than I am.' she thought.

He looked only to be in his late twenties. She saw that his eyes were actually a warm brown color without the black kohl around them but dark circles lined them. Sleep was obviously not a friend of his. She noted with some suprise that his face was handsome. Sensitive lips, rugged jaw, a somehow soft expression without the makeup. But the scars were terrible. They were ragged things on each side of his face, long since healed but still painful looking. A forked looking scar on his chin radiated upward onto his bottom lip. It looked to Samantha like he had been butchered with a dull serrated blade that did more tearing than cutting. Before he was hurt he must have been an extremely nice looking man. Nice looking but still damaged. She knew his sickness predated those scars.

He snickered maliciously. "Now you see what I really look like. Just like I see you. So what do you think Sam? Heartwarming..._isn't it_?"

She merely stared at him, dumbfounded. She'd never given much consideration about how he looked without the makeup. Truthfully she'd become so used to it that it was now normal to her. Seeing him without it was aberrant and profoundly unsettling. It was easier to see him as a human this way and it made her realize the extent of how evil he was.

'The monster takes his mask off and underneath is an even worse monster.' she thought to herself and saw him searching her own face with his eyes, gauging her reaction. He was looking for something in her expression, something to feed off of.

"I never asked to see you without the makeup." she told him carefully and realized that was probably the point. If she'd asked he would have never taken it off.

"I'd ask you if you want to know how I got my scars but I have the feeling you wouldn't, ha, believe me." he said, ignoring her.

Of course she wanted to know, but he was right. She wouldn't believe him.

Then he smiled at her, possibly the most normal smile she had ever seen from him. But those eyes...still so flat and filled with unspeakable things. Even without the make-up he was still the enigmatic Joker, scourge of Gotham City.

"And now" he said "now it's time for some fun. I've been waiting for this for days." With one fluid movement he snatched the knife out of his pocket and Sam's heart skipped a beat but she didn't try to get away, she didn't even make a sound.

Instead she grabbed his wrist and brought the point of the blade underneath her chin. Suprise flashed across his face and a delighted giggle bubbled up from his throat.

"Trying to, ha, tempt me into doing something Sam?"

Actually she wasn't. She was calling his bluff. A foolish move perhaps, even more foolish if he realized why she were doing it, but she was tiring of the game. If he was going to kill her better now than later.

"Not gonna answer me?" The knife tickled underneath her chin but she kept her fingers wrapped around his wrist. She continued to stare at him implacably, saying nothing.

He sighed in mock exasperation but his eyes gleamed with manic happiness. His free hand wandered to her chest lazily.

"_Someone_ seems to have a little bit of a martyr complex, hm?" His free hand went to one of her breasts, fingers stroking her nipple through her shirt. "But if I slid this knife into your throat what do you gain? Nothing. You'll just die alone and no one will care. No one would find your body. You have no cause...nothing to give your life for."

Samantha gave no reaction. His words didn't effect her. Everything he told her she already knew. He couldn't say anything worse than she'd said to herself.

"Or maybe you have a death wish..." he stated.

"Or maybe I like it," she finished.

A sly grin spread across his face, his thumb and forefinger pinched into her nipple painfully and let go. His knife hand lowered slowly.

"If you want to screw me, then let's go. If you want to kill me then do it." she whispered, barely able to believe what she was saying.

He gaped at her for a second and then burst into laughter.

"You think I want to kill you? Why would I want to? You've already been through sooo much. I know about that car wreck where you al-most died. And you were sooo hurt and alone, like a poor lit-tle broken bird. I know about you lying in the snow when that, eh...that _cop _found you."

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "How did you find..."

"I find everything out." he said derisively. "And didn't you date that same cop afterwards? Tell me, what did you two do together? He must have realllly been suprised when he found out what _you_ were like. Think he bit off more than he could chew? Did _he_ think you were a broken little bird, only to find out you were something more? Something stronger than he was? Hmm?"

"I don't know..."

"Oh yes you do Sam. You know, you've got an icy core that is just ir-resist-able. You're no victim are you? What do you suppose he was thinking while he was looking into those green and yellow eyes of yours and knowing you were about to, ah, kill him?"

"How the hell do you know about that?"

"Answer me."

She sighed. "He brought it on himself. And anyway I didn't kill him."

"Oh but Sam you should have killed him, you realllllly should have. Wonder what he's doing right now, hm? Do you think he wants rev-enge for what you did to him?"

"He's probably still in jail. I don't really care either way to be honest. I'm not afraid of him. Now, I'll ask again, how do you know all this?"

He looked at her as if she were the crazy one. "I didn't get to be the greatest criminal in Gotham on my looks alone. Besides, very few things int-er-est me...but when they do...I, uh, I go all out."

His expression grew pensive and Samantha could see the wheels turning in his mind.

"Here's the thing Sam: _I am a force of nature._ That's _all_ I am. I do not want love or accep-tance. I have no desire to have some girl with daddy issues cringing and whimpering before me. It's, um, sickening. I would just as soon feed her to my...pooches as look at her. There's no room in _my_ world for the needy and the weak."

Sam tilted her head curiously, impressed despite herself. He was evil but he did have his priorities straight.

"And you see...one of the things I like about you is you recognize what I am and you acc-ept it. Do you try to change me and show me the error of my ways? No. You don't even beg or plead. I res-pect that. Hmmmm and judging from your reaction to me the other night I'd say you _like_ what I am. Uh...like it quite a bit actually." He smiled sardonically.

"Yeah well...I'm not real keen on the whole blowing things up and killing people thing. And yes, before you remind me, I know it still didn't stop me from doing..._that_ with you."

He brought his lips close to her ear. "And it's not going to stop you now is it?"

"No." she admitted. "It isn't." Her heart was already beginning to speed up, her body anticipating what was to come.

Sex was a funny thing, she thought. It could make her overlook what he was and it could make him forget he would be better off killing her.

"Now" he breathed "let's try this again. And the knife? That's how I'm going to get your clothes off. Undressing is just so boring." He brought the knife back up, its elegant blade gleaming under the flourescent lights. Samantha stiffened warily but didn't move.

Grinning at her approvingly he pushed her down onto the mattress and straddled her. "Trust me." he said and she almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of that statement.

--


	11. Chapter 11 A brief respite

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Samantha and David.

**A/N**: Flashbacks are in italics.

A big thanks to my reviewers!

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

A brief respite

"Come Sam," he told her one day. "How about a little, ah, walk."

She looked at him incredulously from her book. "Sure" was the only thing she could think of saying. It had been two months since the red light and she had not left her little room since then.

As he unlocked the door he said casually "A few things you need to know, in case you have any cute id-eas. I have men all over the place here. Armed men. And dogs." He knew she hated dogs. "_Big dogs._"

"Duly noted" she said and he snickered.

They came out into a decrepit narrow hallway. A few of his minions milled around, daring only furtive looks at the Joker and Samantha. They knew better than to annoy their boss by staring.

"This way" he told her and led her down the hallway into a cavernous room. It was all concrete and steel, mostly empty except for some wooden pallets, boxes and a few chairs. The smell of gasoline was in the air. An old factory Samantha figured.

She followed him down two flights of stairs and then out a side entrance. They were outside in a weed choked lot and she felt a thrill at the fresh air. It was dusk and the sound of crickets was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. The stars were just beginning to come out in a darkening sky.

"Oh my God, this is great." she said, smiling. A few months ago she took this for granted. Now just being outside was a reward.

"I thought you might like it." he said in an odd voice.

Sam looked over at him and noted he looked a bit annoyed..

"I do" she said, running her hands through the grass and dirt. "Thanks."

"Mmmm-hmmm. I have things to do. You can stay out here for a bit if you want. Remember what I said about cute ideas though."

"Yeah, yeah." she sighed and watched him go inside, the door clanging shut behind him. As soon as he was gone she crept to the outer part of the lot and saw it was guarded with a tall chain link fence with wicked looking razor wire at the top. Knowing the Joker she was sure that wasn't the only thing guarding the lot. She walked slowly down the length of the fence, inspecting every inch of it. No holes, it looked well maintained. She turned to the factory and tried to see anything that might look exploitable. Nothing. The door he had went into was locked tight.

As it grew more dark a light cut on, flooding the lot with a yellow glow. It was then she saw a familiar red blink about seven feet off the ground.

Another camera, mounted on the side of the brick building. Christ, what was it with him and cameras? She smirked and, remembering her first day in the room, waved and flipped it off.

"Hey honey, enjoying your stay at Joker Estates?"

She spun to her left and saw a man, yet another clown masked minion, watching her. The place must be infested with them, she thought.

"Sure, the amenities are actually quite nice. Could use a pool though."

He laughed and took a few steps towards her. "You're the first woman I've seen here" he remarked. "You must be the one he grabbed a few months ago?"

"Uh yeah, that would be me." She was starting to get nervous, already eyeballing the ground for rocks or sticks.

"I've heard about you. Wow. I can't believe you're still alive. What does _he_ want with you anyway?"

"I don't know." she answered honestly.

He was only two feet from her now. "Hey," he remarked, eyeing her up and down. "You're a nice looking gal, damn." His tone turned vaguely lewd. "_Now_ I know what he wants with you. Never figured he did _that_ kind of thing. He must have gotten a little taste and decided he liked it, huh? I always figured he just got off on killing people!" He broke into a stupid haw hawing laugh.

"Yeah really" she said, grinning. She had already spotted a small stick on the ground near her and planned on using it if he wanted to try anything.

Instead he turned on his heel and went back towards where he came from. "Well babe you take care. I gotta keep making my rounds. Nice talking to you."

"Bye." she said, feeling bad that she had been planning on killing him when he was just trying to make small talk. He vanished behind a bush and she heard a door slam, one she hadn't noticed before.

She went over to it and, glancing around, tried it surreptiously. Locked.

"Oh well" she said aloud and sat down on the ground. There was no way out of this lot. Her eyes shut with happiness as a breeze whisked over her face. Might as well make the most of this small freedom before he came and got her.

She had actually begun to doze off when a door squealed open.

"Sam, what is it with you and cameras?" the Joker asked in exasperation.

"I should ask you the same thing. A little bit of a voyeur, eh?"

He acted as if he hadn't heard her comment. "Come on, time to go. I had my men bring food to your room."

She wondered why he was being so...nice. He had to be up to something.

--

He stayed in the room with her the whole time, reading a newspaper while she ate.

'This is like some nightmare version of domestic life.' she thought and almost laughed aloud at that.

"Thanks for the walk." she said lamely, wondering why he was hanging around. His silence was making her uneasy.

"Mmm-hmm."

An idea came into her mind and she grinned to herself. If he were going to just sit around and say nothing he could make himself...useful.

"I'm going to go take a shower now." she said and stood up, already pulling her shirt off.

A gleam came into his eye that she recognized and welcomed. It always ended up the same way if they were around each other for any length of time. It had turned into something he couldn't control and she was fine with that. More than fine with it in fact. She suspected he hadn't been able to sexually connect with a woman before.

She went into the bathroom, still undressing as she went. For a second he watched her silently, then came after her.

--

Later on he remarked somewhat absently "Oh Sam, there's something I was meaning to tell you. I may have to release you soon."

"What??" she said, shocked but mindful to keep a hopeful edge out of her voice.

"It's time for me to, ah, move and taking you along will make the process more difficult." he replied simply and walked out without another word.

Watching him leave she felt like jumping up and down with joy. Freedom! How appealing her boring former life seemed now. No more cameras, no more mattress on the floor, no more concrete room. No more _him_. She wasn't sure how she felt about that part but she knew being around him was a game of Russian Roulette. In the end only bad things would happen. That was just the way with him, chaos and unpredictibility.

'Don't get your hopes up,' she thought. 'This could just be another one of his mindfucks.' Or he could simply decide letting her go was too risky and would kill her. With him there was no way to know.

--

_"Okay" she agreed "Why didn't you just say that? You know how I like doing that."_

_He looked at her suspiciously._

_"Look" she said "You went off before I could even talk to you. I think...maybe you misunderstood. Can I explain, please?" She paused, waiting for him to express curiosity._

_"Really? Well by all means go ahead." he said sarcastically. There was nothing of the David she knew in his face or the way he acted. She shuddered at that. She'd always considered herself a good judge of character but he had completely hidden himself from her. They had dated for months, slept together, done things together and she had never seen this man before. Not even at his moodiest or even during his sexual requests._

_"Alright, you should know by now I'm not exactly judgemental. I was just shocked at the...pictures. You shouldn't jeopardize your job by stealing those, you know." She moved her body slightly towards him. "You have so much at stake. I just wish you told me about it. I could have helped you you know."_

_He laughed, the sound between mockery and despair. "How can you help me?"_

_"I can make it easier. We could do...things. To make it seem more real." She raised herself up as much as she could with her hands behind her back. _

_He looked at her, caught between not believing her and believing. The thing was, he _wanted_ to believe. She could see the hopeful gleam in his eyes._

_"Let me help you. Please." she whispered. "You know I love you. You _know_ that. I don't want to this to ruin things for us."_

_She smiled at him softly and he broke. He pulled her up to him and kissed her fervently. She leaned into him, returning the kiss._

_Breaking away from her he pressed his forehead against her cheek._

_"I'm so sorry Samantha. So sorry." He sounded like he was close to tears._

_"Shhhh. It's okay. Really it is. I'm sorry for what I did."_

_Her mind raced to something she had read on the internet in a crime story. _

_"Now" she said, voice low "Let me make it better. I know something you might like."_

_"What's that?"_

_"Well" she kissed him again and continued "I take a bath. A _really_ icy bath. It'll make my skin cold. And then...then you can put me on the bed while I lie still. I think you might like it."_

_The sound of his breathing told her he would indeed like it._

_"But I can't stay like this, my hands are already going to sleep and I can't do things properly with handcuffs."_

_--_

**A/N: Thanks again to my reviewers. This is my first fanfic and you've all been very kind :)**

I know this update was fast but I got impatient, ha. The idea I'm trying to convey is yes the Joker is a monster and yes he is evil but no he isn't immune to all human emotion. Particularly an emotion like lust. I see him as a severely damaged person who was never able to connect with other people. So he mixes it up with Sam, who is similar to him in some ways and is able to connect with her. Sex ensues and they both see what they've been missing.

The thing with Sam is she's a bit older than him, she's a survivor at heart and she's been through some pretty bad things. I also picture her having an awesome poker face, which is useful with a guy like the Joker. She's able to keep her head (figuratively and literally) around him. Or so she thinks. She's getting just as wrapped up in desire as he is. The control each thought they had is slipping through their fingers. It's one of those things where you're so attracted to a person and it feels so good that you just don't care about anything else at the moment, you just want the pleasure and the, ahem..."completion". But you can't shut consequences out forever, no matter how good something feels.


	12. Chapter 12 Tomorrow is the day

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Samantha and David.

**A/N**: Flashbacks are in italics.

There's also some sex stuff in this chapter, nothing too explicit though.

A big thanks to my reviewers!

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

Tomorrow is the day

It had been a while since he had voiced his intention on releasing her and he had not mentioned it since. Some days she saw him, other days not. She couldn't stop thinking about leaving this place for good and her dreams were filled with images of sitting in her small living room drinking coffee and watching DVDs, gardening, soaking in a bathtub, washing her hair with something besides a bar of soap. It was a pleasant diversion, a grab at hope, which she had not had the luxury of in quite a while. Her pragmatic side told her not to jump the gun just yet.

She wondered if anyone was still looking for her. Probably not. She had no family to wonder about her. Her life had been a solitary one and the closest thing she had to friends were her co-workers and they had probably just given up on her. She was sure her position at work was long gone. No job, no car. Hopefully her bank account was still secure. Her house had been in her family for years so she knew she still had that at least.

When the Joker did come to visit her, he lingered with her longer and was even more urgent than before. Both their bodies carried the bruises, bite marks and scrapes that were a part of their sex. Oftentimes he would continue to pump himself into her even after he came, until he did it again. They were using each other, two detached people merging desperately for the same goal. Samantha knew he probably despised himself for finding something like sex so enjoyable but he couldn't help himself. He had probably thought it was beneath him, that it was for the weak. And yet he would come back for more, clenching his gloved fists reflexively as he glared at her, unable to keep away. The resentment and longing in his eyes excited her beyond words.

'I'm ruined from sex with anyone after him' she thought ruefully. 'A psychopathic mass murdering clown. Who can top that?'

One day, after taking an extra painkiller and feeling a little _too_ good she told him that.

"Oh, does that mean you don't want to leave?" he said in a mocking voice.

"Well, I miss my freedom" she said carefully, realizing too late she should have kept her mouth shut.

"What if I, ah, let you go where you want?" His voice was calculating, ready to pounce on any hesitation on her part.

Sighing deeply, as this was becoming dangerous territory, she said "That isn't the same. I'm not the kind of person who's gonna be content being a prisoner. I need to be able to get out, do things, have my own life. Sleep in a real bed."

"I see. I did all those things once upon a time and they were high-ly overrated."

She looked at him appraisingly. It was impossible to not be curious about him, to wonder what had made him into what he was today. She suspected it was no romantic he-lost-love-and-then-went-mad story but more of a man living in silent desperation until he could no longer take it. She pictured him as a quiet sort, trying to survive alone with his hatred and growing madness until it overcame him and consumed him.

What was the catalyst? she wondered. What had given him that final push and turned him into _this_?

But that was the mystique of the Joker, she supposed, anyone could make up their own theories of his origin and who knew what was true and what was a fairytale. At this point _he_ probably didn't know the truth.

"Well" he said suddenly, breaking her thoughts "I guess I should tell you. Tomorrow you go. You'll be, ah, free. A free, not-so-broken little bird." He grinned, tongue creeping over his garish lips. "Although in your case I'd say you're more of a hawk, hm?"

She couldn't help but let out a startled little exhalation of breath. _Tomorrow??_

"Really?" she asked. Her throat suddenly felt like sandpaper.

"Really."

She wanted to ask "This isn't a trick is it?" but she didn't dare. Her instincts told her to keep her words sparse, as he would look for any reason to not let her go.

She was stunned. "I don't know what to say..."

"No need to say anything. But since this will be the last time..." he left the sentence open, dark eyes roving her body hungrily.

--

This was the one thing she didn't want to end.

She was astride him in the chair and he pulled her close, crushing her to him so tightly she could hardly breathe. It was a needful, primal grip from someone whose only physical contact consisted of violence and the sex he had with her. She could feel his heart thumping wildly, the familiar crazed breathing in her ear, hear his voice whispering depraved things to her. He was clothed against her nakedness, the way she liked it and he preferred it, and she melted against him, a strange ache spreading through her chest. She knew she had more control than he did, than he ever would, and it almost saddened her for him.

And as much as it annoyed her she couldn't help but wonder what would become of him after she was gone.

--

_He gave her one last look before he unlocked the handcuffs, one of trust, and he was actually smiling as if everything were okay now. She understood him, would help him. He wouldn't be alone in this anymore._

_She rubbed her hands and forearms briskly, getting the feeling back in them._

_"Thank you" she told him, smiling at him. "Now, as I was saying..."_

_She got up, a bit unsteady, and he rushed to support her. It seemed he was back to his old solicitous self now._

_"I'm ok" she said. "Let me start that bath. You know, I've always wanted to try this but never had the nerve to ask." She moved to her nightstand on the other side of the bed._

_"Could I maybe choke you while we're doing it and you just stay real still and not react?" he asked. He was already practically salivating at the thought._

_"Sure" she answered. She deftly opened the drawer and took her gun out and pointed it at him. He didn't know she kept a .38 by her bed loaded and ready to go._

_He saw it and for a moment he looked like he thought it was a joke, then his face fell and he knew it wasn't._

_"You lying bitch" he snarled._

_She shot him once, hitting him in the abdomen and he immediately hit the floor. A high keening sound came from his throat. It was the worst noise Samantha had ever heard in her life._

_Swiftly she came around and took his gun, taser, and pepper spray. He didn't put up any resistance, in too much pain to bother._

_Samantha sat on the bed and regarded him coldly for a second. She could just let him lie there gutshot until he finally died. She could shoot him again. In the head this time._

_She did none of those things. She picked up the phone and called 911 instead._

_--_

**A/N: **So, we finally see how it went down between Sam and David. She didn't really think twice before shooting him did she? And the Joker is ready to let her go. Maybe he thinks if he lets her go he can break free of the lust he has for her. Having desire for her angers him because it puts him at the level of normal people, whom he has nothing but contempt for. She's a reminder to him that he is a human, as much as he wants to pretend otherwise. He might have other reasons for setting her free though, who knows. At this point Sam isn't about to question his motives too much, or why he dosen't just kill her and be done with it.

I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed this story and put it on their alerts list. Each time I check my email and see a notification I get so happy. You don't know how much I appreciate it and how much that means to me. I can't thank you enough. :)


	13. Chapter 13 Freedom?

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Samantha and David.

**A/N**: Flashbacks are in italics.

A big thanks to my reviewers!

If you'd like to chat about TDK, Heath, the Joker or whatever my Yahoo IM ID is oc1971jn.

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Freedom?

It was the day. She had packed up her clothes in a duffel bag he had provided her and was pacing the room anxiously, waiting on him, _anyone,_ to come tell her it was time.

'If this is a trick I'll probably just lose my mind. I think I'd just lay down and let myself die' she thought to herself. The waiting was killing her. After a while she heard the sound of someone unlocking the door and her heart quickened.

It was three of his clown minions, all clutching guns. "Time to go now babe." one of them said. "Home sweet home for you. Lucky woman you are."

She couldn't help but grin at them all. "You bet your asses I am." she quipped and they all chuckled.

They escorted her down the hallway, down the same flight of stairs she had taken on her walk, through the immense gasoline smelling room and then through a different set of doors than she had seen last time. Before them was a short hallway and a door leading to the outside. She could see light underneath the door's crack and clenched her hands in anticipation.

One of the clowns pulled a length of cloth out of his pocket. "You're gonna have to put this over your eyes." he told her.

Tensing up at this she nevertheless let him put it over her face. Then she could feel herself being pulled along, heard the squeak of the door, could smell the outdoors. Her feet were on gravel, and she was pushed inside a vehicle.

"Ok, go" a familiar voice said, and they began to move.

"In a little bit you can remove the blindfold. I'll let you know when." the Joker told her and she nodded her head.

They rode silently, Sam could feel him staring at her, could hear his breathing. She imagined him sitting there fidgeting like he usually did.

"You can take it off now Sam" he finally told her and she did so gratefully.

They were in the back of an old van with bench seats, the Joker sitting directly across from her. She noted the driver and person in the front passenger seat weren't wearing their masks. Might be a bit unsubtle to have them on while driving down the road she thought wryly.

The Joker however still had his makeup on. She supposed nothing would change that.

"Happy?" he asked, eyes guarded.

"Of course I am." she scoffed. "I've missed my house, I just hope nothing has happened to it while I was gone."

"Your house is fine. Don't worry about it."

Samantha was about to ask him how he knew that and decided not to bother. There were more important questions she wanted answers to.

"Why did you keep bringing me my pills?" she asked abruptly. That never had made any sense to her.

"Ah well I thought it might make you more...manageable if I let you have them. I've seen the scar on your leg, that must still hurt, hm?"

"Yes, it does." He never failed to confuse her. It was okay to kidnap her, but he didn't want her to be in pain? She shook her head in disbelief.

"And city hall...why did you blow it up?"

"Why _not_?" He grinned at her maliciously. "That didn't have anything to do with you Sam, so why worry about it? Besides, it didn't blow _all_ the way up. Bad batch of explosives."

She noted he looked disappointed at that.

"Ok, great" she muttered. "Two more and I'm done. Why did you take me and why keep me for all this time to let me go?"

His response to that was a cackling burst of laughter. She watched him with narrowed eyes, waiting on him to stop.

"Don't dodge the question by laughing" she finally said. "I want to know."

His mirth finally faded, mouth settling into a teasing grin.

"I won't tell you _everything_ Sam-an-tha. You should know better than that. Leave it to you to want to play, ah, twenty questions when you're about to be free. Well, you can just use your imagination 'cause I'm not telling you."

Well since he wanted to tease she figured she'd tease right back.

Leaning forward, returning his smile with one of her own she looked straight into his eyes.

"So...how did you like it?" she whispered.

"Like what?" He tilted his head, obviously intrigued.

Her smile widened and she bit her lip.

"_Me_. You liked it, right? I bet you didn't think you could be interested in things like...mmm you know..._fucking_.Oh, and sucking. And I know you liked..."

"Enough" he snarled, his smile gone. His eyes had darkened, hands doing that clenching movement she knew so well.

She settled back in her seat, unperturbed, still smiling at him. Her demeanor did nothing to diffuse him and he remained fixated on her. She could practically see the wheels turning in his mind.

'Maybe I went just a tad too far' she thought.

The Joker considered her for a few more seconds and seemed to calm a bit. That maddening Cheshire cat smile returned.

"Unless you want to find yourself naked on the floor of this van getting screwed in full view of _them_" he nodded towards the driver and passenger. "Then I suggest you _shhhhh_."

She chewed on that idea for a bit and conceded with a nod. She just couldn't resist one last jab though.

"Fair enough. But look at it this way. You got laid, I got laid. And I did like it. Quite a bit actually. So our time together wasn't a total loss, now was it?"

Evidently that was taking it too far because he was next to her in an instant, hand fisted in the back of her hair. The men in the front glanced over their shoulders at the sudden movement, then wisely looked away.

Pushing her face close to his he regarded her for a long moment.

"Ya know, you're a gorgeous bitch." he hissed. "But that mouth on you...hmm, it just won't do. At. All. Now, _one more word_ about..._that_ and I'll put that mouth to, ha, good use. And then...I'll make you scream. I know how you like for me to make you scream, but I just don't think you'll want to do it with an audience, hm?"

She felt herself getting wet at his words but she definitely didn't want an audience so she nodded mutely.

"Good, good." he whispered and loosened his grip on her hair.

They rode the rest of the way to her home in silence.

--

_When it was all over it was discovered David was not only stealing crime scene photos from PPD but also drugs from the evidence lockers. He was selling the drugs to people in Parnall and Gotham and had ties to the criminal underworld in both cities. _

_Samantha never forgave herself for not seeing who he really was, even though no one had seen. Not his fellow officers, not his family._

_In the end he was sent to jail and she was cleared. Self defense they said. No one believed David when he insisted she shot him when he was making no threatening move towards her._

_After that she was done with Parnall. She had rented out her family home in Gotham for years, unable to live there since finding her mother dead of a heart attack in that house. But after David she had no choice but to give the renters a notice to move out. And when they were gone she resignedly moved in._

_She had expected the worst, the bad memories, of constantly reliving the moment of finding her mother and knowing she had failed her, that she had not been there when her mother needed her. But it hadn't been too bad, the years had dulled the pain and remodeling had changed the interior. In time she began to love the shabby little home again._

_Samantha had finally felt her life restabilizing, right up until the night she stopped for the red light._

_--_

**A/N: **This was another fast update but my impatience is back in full force, lol. The entire story is done except for some revisions here and there so it's a bit too tempting to start slamming chapters up left and right. I guess that's not a good thing though. I'm thinking of sticking the uncensored version of the story somewhere else where I can get away with it and not offend people but haven't made a final decision on that yet.

In response to some questions I've gotten about the not love relationship between the Joker and Sam. Well the Joker is the Joker, lol. I think he is wholly incapable of love. As for Sam, she has "issues". She has that distant personality you see in some people and then the thing with David only made it worse for her. At this point in her life she would push love away if it were offered to her. As it stands the Joker has given her exactly what she wanted, whether she will admit it or not. So this concludes the Dr. Phil analysis on Sam, LOL.

Next chapter is in Commissioner Gordon's POV.


	14. Chapter 14 A strange survivor

**A/N: **This chapter is in Gordon's POV.

Many thanks to my reviewers and readers!

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

A strange survivor

Commissioner Gordon sat at his desk, poring over the transcripts of the interviews with Samantha Knight. He had looked at them over and over, trying to find a clue, a reason, anything. All he'd gotten was a headache. Normally he wouldn't deal with kidnap victims but due to the identity of her abductor he had to interview her.

She had called GCPD a few nights ago, identifying herself and saying she had been kidnapped by the Joker months ago and had just been released. The dispatcher had instantly recognized her name. Her smashed car and a semi truck had been found practically in the middle of the street early one morning.

Eventually they found out the truck had been stolen from a rest area, the driver shot and killed. No suspects. All they knew is someone had crashed into her car, taken Samantha and left by some other means of transportation. Everyone had assumed she was dead.

And then she had called them out of the blue saying the Joker had released her and she was home. He had dropped her off in her own damned driveway. A unit had been sent out to pick her up and had found her merely sitting on her porch staring off into space.

Gordon hadn't wanted to believe her story at first but as he listened to her he realized he couldn't dismiss her. The idea she had survived for months as the Joker's captive both amazed him and roused his suspicion. Why didn't he kill her? Why just let her go after all that time? He felt there was more to this than she was telling but he still couldn't help but feel sympathy for her. She had no immediate family. Only child, mother dead, father MIA, no husband or kids. He didn't know if she had any friends but she didn't seem to be the type of person who liked to be around other people. Definite loner type.

Samantha had allowed them to photograph her and videotape his interview with her. He recalled talking to her that night. She was a tall woman with a limp, early thirties, pretty with an aura of confidence few people have. Long dark blonde hair in need of a trim. Her skin had the same kind of pallor that prisoners have from lack of sunlight and her eyes were hollow. There was a hint of sadness behind her aloof demeanor that he couldn't place. She seemed exhausted and disoriented but her voice was even, face emotionless, eyes steadily on his as she spoke.

He had spoken to quite a few kidnap victims in his career and aside from the brainwashed ones none of them had ever been as composed and steely as this woman. A psychiatrist analyzed her and confirmed Miss Knight had no symptons of brainwashing or Stockholm Syndrome. This information made Gordon respect her even more, he doubted he could have spent that much time with the Joker and shown that kind of resilience.

She answered all his questions and had little information of use to him. She didn't know where she'd been kept, where the Joker had went, knew little about the bombing of Gotham City Hall but divulged that the Joker had bragged to her about doing it. The egotistical bastard had even ordered his thugs to bring a tv to her cell so she could watch news reports on it.

Then there were the little things. She adamantly refused to have a rape examination performed, insisting he had not done that to her. As a matter of fact she didn't want _any_ kind of examination done, not even a cursory look to make sure she was okay. But Gordon had glimpsed the bruises on her wrists and he knew _something_ had been done to her. And her eyes. They were a startling green with yellow flecks, made even more striking by the fact her pupils were mere pinpoints.

Gordon had seen many drug addicts and users in his day and he knew pupils like that usually signified opiate use. Heroin, pills, whatever...she was using and he knew it. How do you get drugs while in captivity? He hardly thought the Joker would give them to her. Then again she could have had a stash at home and dosed up before calling the police. After what she had been through it seemed plausible.

And those bruises. He was willing to bet she had more and maybe worse where no one could see. Disturbing theories cropped up in his mind and he halfheartedly fought to push them away. She was a victim for Christ's sake, he had no right to question what she might have had to do to survive.

Eventually he concluded his interview with her and tried to advise her against going back home right away. She would hear none of it, not even wanting police protection.

"All I want is a ride home. And don't worry about me Commissioner. I don't think he'll hurt me. If he'd wanted to do that I would have been dead a long time ago."

He supposed she had a point but worry nagged at him. Something just wasn't right. And there was the matter of what happened in Parnall with her shooting that police officer. How much bad luck could one person have in the space of a few years?

He raked a hand through his hair, exasperated by her obstinance.

"Fine. I do want to talk to you further Miss Knight. I'm going to give you my card with my personal number on it. Anything, _anything_ at all that you can remember I want to know. This..._man_, he's hurt too many people, he's caused nothing but destruction and pain to Gotham and I want him behind bars or in Arkham. It dosen't matter where, I just want him off the damn street."

Samantha stood up and he rose from his chair too. He shook her hand, noting how firm her grip was for someone who looked so tired.

"I'll give you any information I can." she assured him. "He is very very sick and I don't think he'll ever quit doing what he's doing. The only things that will stop him are capture or death."

He had walked her out of the building to a waiting police car. Gordon hated letting her go like this but she'd already been at GCPD for twelve hours. She had cooperated fully except for the physical examinations. He couldn't keep her from going home.

That had been nearly a week ago and although he had talked to her several times she still didn't remember anything of importance. It frustrated him endlessly, she had been with the Joker for so long, was their best chance of getting information on him, yet she had nothing. He didn't blame her. The Joker wasn't stupid and he had kept his bases covered with Samantha.

Gordon wondered if the Joker hadn't let her go just to taunt him.

--

**A/N:** So Gordon knows something is up with Sam but he can't place exactly what it is. It would be almost unfathomable to a man like him to think she may have had some sort of relationship with a monster like the Joker. He sort of skirts around that idea but guilt pulls him back.


	15. Chapter 15 Enter Normality

**A/N: **And now we're back to Sam's POV.

Sooo, there's some masturbation stuff in this chapter, heh.

Our lovely Mr. J will be back soon, don't worry.

Thanks to my reviewers and readers, you're awesome.

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Enter "Normality"

Samantha worked in her garden all day, pruning, fertilizing, checking on the praying mantis nests she had threaded into the thorny stalks of the roses. Spring was coming and she wanted her flowers to get off to a good start this year. Her hands were beginning to stiffen so she decided to take a break and stretched out on the ground. It was an overcast March day, threatening rain but warm. The six month anniversary of her release was coming up but she tried not to think of it.

_He_ filled her thoughts enough as it was.

Every time she went outside. When she was at work. And especially at night. It wasn't fear so much as it was a mixture of anxiety and an odd excitement. Any little outside noise grabbed her attention and she'd catch herself with the television muted, head cocked to the side, waiting. Sometimes she'd wonder what he was doing right at that moment, wondered if thoughts of her ever crossed that chaotic mind of his. She tried to stop him from entering her mind to no avail.

But the absolute worst was the sexual frustration. Six months later and it was damn near intolerable. Her Hitachi magic wand worked overtime and it still wasn't enough. She'd lie back in bed, gritting her teeth, reveling in her climax, thinking of all the things they'd done to each other and that made it that much more ecstatic. She'd make herself come over and over again and it still couldn't satisfy her. It wasn't _him_. Each time she did it she hoped he was watching her somehow. It was wrong and just plain weak to feel like this but she couldn't help herself. She could only hope the sonofabitch was going through the same thing as her but about ten times worse.

A few weeks after she got back home she found out a large, very large, sum of money had been deposited into her back account. She had her ideas where it came from. Her old job was long gone, her position filled in her absence, so she had found a job in a little hardware store on the outskirts of Gotham and bought another car. Between money from her mother's death and her unknown benefactor she didn't need a great paying job, just something to supplement and fill her time. Then she was free to settle down to the business of trying not to worry, of trying not to think of her three months of captivity. Of course she thought of it anyway, mostly the _why_ of it. She had a lot of _whys_ these days.

Her thoughts went back to her interviews with Commissioner Gordon after her release.

--

"Can you think of any reason why he would have kidnapped you Miss Knight?"

"I don't know. He said he thought I might be worth saving after I spoke to him. He thought I was different somehow?" she shrugged.

"What did you say to him again?" He already knew, he was just playing the game, trying to piece the puzzle together.

"After he hit my car I yelled at him. That was before I knew who it was. He grabbed me and told me I had a lot of nerve getting in _his_ way and yelling at _him_. And I told him 'The light was red'. I think before that he had every intention of killing me."

"I see."

He asked her a lot of things. He wanted to know, with genuine concern on his face, if the Joker had 'hurt' her. The grimness on his face told her exactly what he meant by that. She wondered what he'd think if he could see the bruises, cuts and bite marks on her body and what he'd think of her if he knew she'd loved every minute of getting them. What would he think if he knew she'd left a few of her own bruises, cuts and bites on the Joker's body?

"No, he didn't hurt me. He pretty much just studied me like a bug under a microscope." That was true.

Gordon smiled at her, the lines around his eyes crinkling. It was almost impossible to be indifferent to this man. If she cared about having a father she would want James Gordon to be hers. "Miss Knight, I can't begin to tell you how courageous you are. If half the people in this city were like you..."

'Then this city would would be screwed.' she thought sadly.

"Then this city would be a shining example."

Samantha smiled at him wanly. "Thanks Commissioner. You can't imagine how happy I am to be back home. All I want is to get on with my life and forget about all this."

"You should still be very careful Miss Knight. He's unpredictable and he might decide to come back for you."

"He won't" she assured him "He wanted me to talk to the police. I've done so, and therefore I believe he's done with me."

That was true, before she had been left in her own driveway that had been his request. 'Tell them whatever you want' he had said. She had been planning on it anyway.

From the moment she had arrived at Gotham PD headquarters it had been a neverending string of questions, poking, prodding. Did he beat you, rape you, torture you, did he give any information, do you know his whereabouts, etc. When they learned of her last name they gave each other puzzled looks. She still couldn't figure that one out.

Inevitably they looked into her past and saw that she had almost killed a police officer from a neighboring town a while back and their interest grew keener. Mercifully they kept it all quiet so she was spared the newspapers, press conferences and reporters. After a few weeks of scrutiny she went back to her old life and was finally left alone. Being left alone was what Samantha wanted most in her life.

--

A few drops of rain spattered down onto her face and for a moment she simply basked in it. Finally she got up and went into the house to clean up and make something to eat. She opted for chicken breasts in the microwave and as she ate she watched tv. The news was on, the news always made her apprehensive but she continued to watch it every evening. Since she had been set free the Joker had vanished, hiding out who only knew where and giving Gotham a respite from his chaos. Tonight's news seemed to be the usual fare, a few drug murders, an accident on the freeway...and a bank robbery in a neighboring town. The town of Parnall.

Parnall?

The survelliance camera footage on the news didn't show a whole lot, just enough. She could make out blurred clown masks in the video and leaned forward. Copycats? Probably not. Samantha knew it was just a matter of time before the Joker surfaced again.

Of course the anchorman was all over the Joker angle, pointing out the masks and asking the camera with practiced seriousness, "Is this merely a copycat crime or could it be that the Joker is back?"

'He has no reason to bother me again' she thought. 'Not that he ever needed a reason to do what he does.' Hell, he had no reason to bother her in the _first_ place but he did anyway.

She settled back and, when the story was over, turned the channel.

--

**A/N:** I wanted some of Sam's conversations with Gordon in her POV to show what was going through her mind. She wants to get on with her life but she watches the news, looking for signs of him. The Joker's got her hooked and she knows it. Part of her would like to forget all about him but another part wants to see him again...among other things. Along with the sexual obsession Samantha is a little fond of him and maybe even a bit worried about what will become of him. She understands him, even if she dosen't agree with what he does. Oh and masturbating to thoughts of your former captor isn't a good way to get on with your life either, but who can blame her?

And for those of you who don't know what a Hitachi Magic Wand is, it is a "muscle massager" sold in most drug and retail stores. Plugs in, has a strong vibration.

Um, that's what I hear anyway, LOL.


	16. Chapter 16 The greater of the two

**A/N: **Much love and a big thanks to all my wonderful reviewers and readers!

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

The greater of the two

"Have a good night," Eric said. "I'll call you tomorrow...if you want."

"Yeah, I'd like that" Samantha said, smiling.

"Great, we could go out to eat maybe?"

"Sounds awesome"

He grinned at her eagerly. He was adorable, early twenties, clean-cut, shy. _Normal. _She hoped anyway. She could have him if she wanted but so far it hadn't felt right. In time it would though, that she knew. She leaned closer to him, allowing him to kiss her. He started out hesitantly, then pressed in harder.

Finally she pulled away. "I'll talk to you tomorrow" she told him and nipped at his lower lip gently. His eyes widened at that. She gave a little laugh and got out of the car.

"Sure you don't want me to walk you inside?" he asked through the car window.

"I'm sure. I'm what, twenty feet from my front door? I think I can manage."

"Um, okay, but that's not _exactly_ what I meant when I asked."

She winked at him and grinned.

"Oh I _know_ what you meant."

"Hey, never hurts to try." he said sheepishly.

She waved at him and he slowly drove away. Samantha watched the red glow of his taillights grow dimmer and dimmer until they faded away.

Walking down her sidewalk she thought of how she met him, he came into her work to buy supplies for his family's drugstore. After a few weeks of awkward flirting he had asked her out. Tonight had been their third date. She had tried to fantasize would it would be like in bed with him but it seemed somehow...lacking.

"Have a nice date?"

With a start she noticed a figure on her lawn, out of the range of her streetlight. She froze, hand going for her jacket pocket.

"Oh don't do that Samantha. It's too late. I've already got a gun on you."

That voice was familiar but it wasn't _his_.

He came towards her and she had a brief flashback of the night with the semi and the red light, someone moving towards her the same way, someone she could not see until it was too...

He moved into the light and tingles of adrenaline and fear shot through her.

"Well hi David" she said, struggling to keep her voice steady "Out of jail already I see."

He didn't look amused. "I've been out for a while. Good behavior, you know."

"Hmmm, this dosen't qualify as good behavior _at all_. What _would_ your parole officer say?"

"How about you shut the fuck up and turn around."

She hesitated and he jammed the barrel of the gun in her ribs. Sighing she turned around and felt him going through her pockets. He fished her gun out of her jacket.

"A gun Sam? On a date? What's the matter, scared of something?"

"No not really, just trying to be mindful of all the crazies out there with nothing better to do with their time."

He twisted her back around to face him. "Not much to do when you're in jail and then can't get a job when you get out. And all because of some FUCKING BITCH who wouldn't mind her own business."

"Mind my own business? What, I was supposed to brush it off when I found out what a necrophiliac pervert you were? Oh and getting tasered and handcuffed. Yeah, I should've let all that slide. Gosh, I'm such a bitch. Poor you."

"You shot me when I didn't even have my gun on you, think I should let _that_ slide? I should have let you die the night I found you. Should have left and let you choke on your own blood."

Samantha laughed at him. "Why so you could come back to my body later? I bet you would have liked that. You know, you really should get over this. It's your own fault you got shot. Not only are you a pervert and a crook but you're a goddamn fool too."

His fist cocked back and he hit her. She had seen it coming and managed to dodge it a bit but he still caught her in the side of the head, sending sparks of pain through her skull. She shook it off and responded with her own punch which landed squarely in David's eye. He drew back in surprise and outrage but quickly recovered.

They circled each other, panting angrily. Samantha knew it was over, she was trapped and David would most certainly kill her. She wondered how long he would torment her before he finished her off.

And then laughter. It was the same laugh heard by hyenas as they tore a carcass to pieces. She froze at the sound, forgetting all about David.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Sam whispered as the Joker came out of the darkness. In one hand he carried a hammer. One side of the hammer's head was blunt, like most hammers, the other side sported a long pointed spike that gleamed wickedly under the streetlight.

Samantha noticed David didn't seem in the least bit startled by the sudden appearance of a demented, hammer wielding clown. He barely even glanced at the Joker.

"Oh hiiii Samantha. I just couldn't stay away" the Joker giggled. "As you can see I brought you a, um, a present."

He motioned to David as if he were giving her a grand prize.

"You brought me _that_?" she asked in disbelief. "Well take it the fuck back. I thought I was rid of it a long time ago."

The Joker laughed hysterically and David started to come at her like he was about to hit her again and Samantha took a step back.

"Now now child-ren. I was really hoping you could play nice." The Joker looked at David disapprovingly. "but I see some of us can't, hah, control ourselves. But it's okay. I couldn't cont-rol myself either when it came to _her_."

He looked at Samantha, chewing his lip and grinning crazily. "Isn't that right, mmmm, Sam?"

She looked away, saying nothing.

"What?" David said, disgust evident in his voice. "You two..._WHAT_?!"

"Many times." The Joker said, tongue sliding over his lips, obviously trying to push his buttons. "Many, many, _many _times. She's innnn-satiable too. The only woman that kept me _coming_... back for more."

His head lolled back as he eyed David slyly. "If you catch my meaning."

Samantha almost laughed at the sick look on David's face.

"So that's why you didn't kill her" David muttered. "You were screwing her. I hired you to grab her and...kill...her and you fucked her and let her go!! We had a deal!" His voice was rising and Sam knew if he kept it up he would be dead.

"No no no Dav-id. You wanted me to grab her, torture her and then let _you_ kill her. I decided to play it a little differently, hm?" The Joker's voice was condescending. "Act-ually I did you a favor giving you the time of day. I'm a very busy man, you see. Why would I waste my time on ah...dom-estic problems, hm? That's so boringgggg. The only reason I took your _limited _money and information was because I wanted to see who this woman was who had so...gripped...you. After that it was all my game."

Money and information, Samantha wondered how many people and contacts David had given up just to get to her. Not to mention security details for businesses in Parnall. That would explain the bank robbery there. She was willing to bet he had a nice money stash from his drug selling operation. He'd probably tapped into it to get to her. And what had she found out after she'd shot him? He'd had ties to criminals in Gotham. That explained a lot. Anger began to blaze through her.

"You mean to tell me that thing with the truck was _planned_?" she turned to the Joker. "You almost ran me over with a SEMI TRUCK just to kidnap me... for this" she pointed at David. "piece of shit?! Kind of theatrical don't you think? You really are insane aren't you?"

The Joker merely shrugged as if it were obvious.

David was ignoring them both now, muttering to himself. "I helped you with that bank when I should have...dropped you after you burned me the first time."

He was toeing a very thin line and he knew it, but his rage was getting the best of him. It was bad enough this freak had strung him along for almost a year, bad enough he hadn't done anything to Samantha he'd ordered him to do. But now to find out he'd been screwing her...

"Oh stop complaining. There she is" the Joker nodded at Sam "right in front of you. I brought you to her, as promised. The woman whose, ah, life you saved and in return who shot you." He glanced at Sam conspiratorially and sidled closer to her. She noted he had a bad limp, worse than hers. It was painful just to watch him walk.

"How have you been?" he asked her, as if it were just them. "I've been ummm...think-ing of you."

"Been doing great up until now." she growled and he laughed.

"I know Sam, I shouldn't have disturbed you. But I couldn't stay away. Haven't you missed me, hm? Just a little bit?"

She glared at him and he pretended to look hurt. Then he looked over to David who was now staring at them with a mixture of revulsion and fascination on his face.

"You see Daaave. I decided I like Samantha much better than you."

David started to say something and he stopped him, patting the air with his hands. "Sh-sh-sh about the, ah, sex stuff. It's not just that. She's _better_ than you, and you know it. She not only sent you to the hospital to eat baby food for a while she _also_ sent you to jail." His voice was mocking.

Samantha noticed the Joker was slapping the hammer head into his gloved palm rhythmically.

"I robbed a fucking bank with you to..."

The Joker sighed. "Not the bank thing again. I got shot in the leg at that robbery and do you see me crying? Hm? NO."

He came back towards David and stood next to him companiably. "We did have a deal though, didn't we? Kill her so we can get out of here."

David looked at him suspiciously, the gun wavering in his hand.

"Well? No one will hear, it's very eh, rural out here. So do it. Don't worry, I won't take it personally."

David smiled coldly at her. Samantha felt like she was in a dream, listening to two crazy men discussing killing her in her own yard. She was still more angry than afraid though.

'What the hell have I done to deserve this?' she thought furiously. If she only had her gun she'd gladly shoot them both. But she didn't and now...now she was probably going to die. She shut her eyes, wanting it to just be over with.

"Well bitch, it's been fun" David said, the gun raising up, pointing right at her "I wish I had more time. I'd really like to play around with you, but now it en..."

A sound between a thump and a pop interrupted what he was saying and there was silence. Samantha opened her eyes to see David on the ground and the Joker standing over him. He was tossing the hammer up like a baton, humming as he did so. She could see some kind of dark liquid fly off the hammer with each throw. It wasn't hard to figure out what that liquid was.

"mmm-hmm it has been...fun." the Joker murmured. In one graceful movement he caught the spinning hammer in mid-air and neatly buried the spiked side in David's temple. David's body twitched a few times, then went still.

Samantha exhaled sharply, staring at David, then the Joker. She started to back away, legs shaking.

"Oh now Sam, don't run away from me. I just saved your life. For the second time! Where's the gratitude?" His voice was giddy.

"So am I next?" she asked when she got her voice back. It was hard for her to take her eyes off the hammer stuck in David's skull.

He looked at her incredulously and burst into laughter. "Next for what? To be killed? Don't you remember when I said I didn't want to kill you? Hm? I meant that."

He kicked David's body contemptously and added "Now him, he wanted to kill you. See where it got him? But he'll never bother you again, will he? I almost told him no when he came to me. Oh, he wanted you dead Sam, you have no idea how badly. And the things he wanted me to do to you. Verrry..._intriguing_ things. You know, that's the reason I took him up on it. I just _knew_ you had to be special because of how, ah, _furious_ you made him. Do you know how close I came to doing what he wanted. Hm? So close."

She eyed him curiously. "What stopped you?"

His mouth stretched into a grin. "I decided my world was far more interesting with you alive."

He gave out a sharp whistle, as if calling for a dog, and two of his men came from the shadows.

"Take him away and give me the guns." he ordered. They complied and the Joker handed Samantha her .38 and pocketed David's gun for himself.

They scooped up David's body and carried him away. The Joker walked over to her, letting out a wincing little laugh with every step. He looked different. Thinner, worn and tired. It was visible even through his smeared face paint. Samantha was willing to bet he'd gotten more reckless since her time with him. She knew he would end up destroying himself and God only knew how many he would take with him.

She wanted to run, to scream at him, hit him. In the end she just stood there, staring into the frightening yet familar face of the man who could get her caught up in a moment like no one else ever could. The dull ache in her chest she had felt on her last night with him returned and she shook her head helplessly. This was too much.

"So now you know why." he said simply.

Samantha nodded silently. He had taken her, yes, but he could have kept his end of the bargain with David. She wondered why David hadn't come after her himself. Why go to someone like the Joker who was widely known to have no rules, no sense of criminal honor? When he decided to change things around to his own liking there was nothing you could do about it. David had found that out the hard way. Samantha figured David didn't want to tangle with her after she'd shot him and decided to bring in a third party so cruel and merciless that she would be broken. He had wanted to tear her down the way she'd torn him down.

And in a way it had worked, just not the way he'd planned it.

For a moment she thought about how a car wreck had made all this happen. _Everything_ had started with that one night. Amazing. She felt a pang of grief, over what she wasn't sure. In a dark corner of her mind she knew the very foundation of her life and her sanity was crumbling away. Block by block. Piece by piece. He would end her, she was suddenly very sure of that. She looked at the Joker and it seemed like he was reading her mind, that he understood everything. As if he had felt the same things she was feeling now.

"I _have_ missed you." she whispered suddenly and she felt like she had just damned herself with those words. But it was true.

In response he leaned forward, arms at his sides, and put his forehead on her shoulder. His body was like a coiled spring. For a moment she froze, then tentatively lifted her hand to stroke his head. It was like touching a wild animal and for a second she wanted to embrace him. She wanted to feel him again, just one more time. That sensation of being enveloped, swallowed whole, infected with him...she wanted it badly. But in the end she just continued to run her hand over his hair, her eyes tightly shut.

He stood still for a long time, letting her touch him. Neither of them said a word.

Finally he pulled away from her and limped silently back into the darkness from which he came.

--

**A/N: **Yes, he walked away and left her standing there, lol.

So the Joker is back and Sam isn't too sure how she feels about that. His presence is making her do more introspection than she's used to and she knows this can only end badly. However their connection is too strong to be easily dismissed. She'll have to take a side sooner or later. The story will be coming to a close in a few more chapters.

Oh and the hammer the Joker uses to clobberize David is a rock hammer, aka Geologist's hammer.


	17. Chapter 17 Lapse

**A/N: **Ok, there's sex acts in this chapter. There's your warning, heh.

Love to my reviewers and readers, you guys own me :)

My Yahoo ID is oc1971jn if you ever want to chat.

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Lapse

After that night she felt his presence all the time. She didn't know if it was paranoia, wishful thinking or if he actually _was _out there. Sometimes as Eric dropped her off at her house she could swear she felt eyes on her. Because of this she decided it wouldn't be a good idea for Eric to be at her house and made up excuses to keep him away. If he was watching her she wasn't sure what his reaction would be to seeing her with another man.

Her and Eric's relationship was at a standstill anyway. She felt too uncomfortable becoming emotionally invested and couldn't explain it to him without giving away too much. Then there were the sexual problems. Before the Joker had released her she had said he would ruin her from sex with anyone and it was true. The sex between her and Eric was nice but it lacked the intensity she had begun to crave.

One evening she came home from work to find a card nailed to her door. She eyed it and glanced around suspiciously before yanking it off the door and ducking inside. Once in she studied it, heart pounding. It was a Joker card. In the picture the Joker was carrying a severed head.

"Nice touch" she muttered, flipping the card over.

The back of the card read:

_Samantha,_

_How is civilization treating you? Come out on your porch when it gets dark. Don't disappoint me._

She looked out the window. The evening light was fading, the dappled sunlight in her yard diminishing. Her eyes went to the woods surrounding her house and she knew he was out there. Waiting for her.

Of course she would go out there.

'What are you doing?!' she asked herself. During her captivity she had wanted to be free so badly and now here she was, waiting for the man who had captured her. It was sick, it was wrong and she wanted it. That hunger was there, the anticipation of something she hadn't had in a while, like a drug.

--

It was finally dark out and with a deep breath she slipped out her door, leaving her porch light off. The night air was slightly chill and damp and she shivered as she sat down on her porch. A slight breeze stirred her hair and all was quiet, as if a storm were about to come.

She sensed him before she saw him, coming to the left of her, his presence overwhelming and unmistakable. He said nothing at first, just stood by her. She could smell the faint odor of gasoline, reminding her of when she was his prisoner.

Finally he spoke "So, here you are"

"Yes. Here I am." she answered simply.

He sucked on his teeth thoughtfully, tongue working behind his teeth. He could never be still she thought, his body always seemed to be zooming along like a tireless machine.

"Why don't you come inside" she stated more than asked "I'm cold out here."

She stood up and went inside before he could reply and after a moment's hesitation he followed her.

--

'Are you crazy?' her rational side screamed 'You're letting _that_ into your house?!'

'That' indeed. He looked a terrible mess, worse than normal. His limp was still bad, face paint smeared everywhere, hair disheveled and even more in need of a washing than usual, face bruised, blood on his clothes. His lip was split and there was more blood on his mouth than makeup. He looked twice as demonic as he ever did before. He still had that worn, tired look to his face she had seen a few weeks ago during the incident with David. Samantha had once owned a tomcat that would stay gone for days at a time, then come home looking like he'd fought every cat, dog and who knows what else in town. The Joker reminded her of that cat right now.

"Well don't you look beautiful" he leered "And here I am, ha, looking like I do."

"Sit down. Jesus, you look terrible. What happened to you?"

He lowered himself down on her couch stiffly. "Just a few...run ins with cer-tain people."

She sat down next to him, leaving plenty of space between them. "Take care of your leg." she said "If gets infected even you won't be able to take the pain, and it's not like you can just go to the ER."

He raised his eyebrows "Hm, I didn't know you cared. It's not my _leg_ I'm con-cerned about anyway."

She decided changing the subject would be the best course of action. "Sooo...any certain reason you wanted to see me?"

A dark chuckle resonated from his throat and he reached across the space between them to grip her chin. He was making sure she couldn't look away from him.

"Tell me about this _Eric_ person you've been, ah, seeing." his tone of voice was conversational, friendly. For the moment.

"What's there to tell?" she answered icily. So he _had_ been watching her, or having her watched.

"Just curious." his teeth were bared in a taunting smile. "Just wondering if _he_ knows what you're really like, hm? Or is it too soon for that?"

"I don't know what you're trying to do here but please tell me this isn't some jealousy thing. That really is beneath you. Or should be anyway."

In a split second the expanse between them was gone and he was right against her. She saw with alarm his face was more badly beaten than she'd originally thought.

"Oh no no no." he laughed at her. "Not that. It dosen't matter who you sleep with, I know who you belong to. You know it too, don't you? No, what I want to know is how does he com-pare to me? He must not, otherwise I wouldn't be here would I?"

His hand had snaked down into her lap, running lazy little circles on her thighs.

"Honestly?" she said. "He dosen't. Not in...that way."

"And what does that tell you, hm?" his breath was hot in her ear, voice rushed. Samantha thought of his reaction to her teasing in the van, of the cold rage he had shown when she brought up sex between them. Knowing this bothered him as much as it did her made her feel both triumphant and aroused.

"I know." she admitted. "I know what it tells me. The question is why are you here? Been missing something? I knew you would. You hate the fact you're human, don't you?"

For a moment his hand stopped its movement and she waited for him to switch to anger. Instead it became more insistent, sliding between her legs. His teeth bit down on her earlobe, just enough to hurt.

"Trying to push me dear?" he whispered and she shivered at the menace in his voice. "Not a good idea. At. All."

Through the fabric of her jeans his fingers found the spot that he knew would push her over the edge. Samantha shivered and clenched her jaw, trying to keep her wits about her. She'd have him, that she knew. But first she had a few things she wanted to say.

"You can say what you want." she told him, keeping her gaze just as unrelenting as his. "But you have nothing to threaten me with now. Nothing to do with all your power."

She gave him a small, almost sad, smile but her eyes were hard. "Because, you see, I have nothing to lose anymore."

The Joker's eyes flickered with brief hesitation and confusion. Not many people were willing to tempt their fate with him and he could hardly believe what she was saying. Even for her this was audacious.

He recovered quickly enough though and giggled. "You might not want to say that Sa-man-tha. I love a challenge and I _always_ have the last laugh."

His fingers pressed down on her and she swallowed hard. The time for talking was done, she thought. Six long months of need and frustration were coming to a head and it didn't matter what he said anymore. She held her mouth close to his, taking in his breath.

"Here's a challenge for you." she whispered. Eyes half closed, she brought her own hand down between his legs and felt with satisfaction how excited he was, then squeezed him hard.

Then without warning he was on top of her. Sam had forgotten how quick he was. He put his bloody mouth over hers, already breathing hard. He was snarling like a dog through their kiss, pushing himself against her with that needful urgency. She buried her hands in his hair, keeping his head down so she could keep their mouths together, sliding her tongue against his.

Suddenly he leaped up, grabbing her by the arm. He started dragging her towards her bedroom and for a moment she was confused as to how he knew where it was. Then she realized he'd been in her house, while he had her captive. Once in he let go of her and looked her up and down appraisingly.

"You have no idea what you've done, do you?" he asked cryptically and burst into hysterical laughter.

Before she could ask what he meant she found herself shoved hard onto the bed. He loomed over her, hands clenching and unclenching wildly. In the dark bedroom all she could see were black eye sockets, white face, that red slash of a mouth. He looked like something straight out of Hell. Deadly, out of control, beautiful. And she wanted him.

"Come on." she urged. Every second of waiting was painful.

He pulled her shirt and bra up, not even bothering to pull them off, then roughly pulled her jeans and underwear down around her ankles.

"Is this what you want?" His voice had taken on that low guttural growl and he sounded positively insane.

"Yes."

The sound of a zipper coming down and that was enough to make her even wetter.

"Sit up." he ordered and she did.

"Come. HERE." He grabbed the back of her head, forcing her towards him and she could feel him against her lips. Needing no further prompting she took him into her mouth. He exhaled in a long shuddering moan and she devoured him. After a few minutes of this he pushed her away, albeit reluctantly.

He knelt in front of her and she could feel his breath on her bare skin. Then his tongue was on her, burning her, mingling with her wetness. She bit her lip hard, fingers twisting into the sheets. When she tried to move closer to him he held her down fiercely, hands clamped into her legs, mouth working on her determinedly.

When she was close he stopped and left her gasping on the bed. She heard the whisper of clothes hitting the floor and looked over to see him undressing.

Then he was on top of her, the feeling of his bare skin against hers was odd. He usually kept his clothes on during sex. His eyes were dark and burning as he silently regarded her.

"I want you to hit me" he whispered hoarsely. "Hard."

Samantha looked at him for a long moment, unsure.

"I want you to do it. Do. It. Now." Desire flamed in his eyes and she couldn't refuse.

She balled her fist up and punched him in the face. Shockwaves of pain went through her hand and up her arm but she barely felt it.

His reaction was instant. A gasp of pleasure left his scarred lips and he was inside her with one savage motion. It was tortuous and ecstatic and she was sure it would drive her mad. He wouldn't stop looking at her, those black eyes promising things she couldn't turn down and her heart was hammering in her chest crazily. He pounded into her faster, grinning sadistically the whole time. She was dimly aware of her own voice crying out.

And then _his_ voice. Breathless with lust.

"Will it excite you even more to know what I'm about to do to this city?" he murmured. "How I'm going to turn it...upside down. How I'm going to take its soul and turn it into an empty burned out shell. It's going to be bea-uti-ful Sam, bea-uti-ful just like you, and _you_ will be there to see it."

She barely heard him, concentrating instead on the timbre of his voice and the bliss of his body driving into hers. She was close, so close.

"You'll be there to see it and it'll feel soooo fucking good. The anarchy, the death. Everything is gonna..._burn_."

And then she was over the edge, the bottom dropping out, feeling nothing but bliss.

"But first, the Comm-iss-ioner will die, then the, ah, the Batman will die. And this city will be mine."

His words pierced through her haze, and then he was coming too, his voice still in her ear.

"Just like you're mine."

--

**A/N: **So this was kind of a weird chapter. Notice how the Joker starts talking about what he's going to do to Gotham while they're still having sex. And you can be sure talking about it gets him more excited. It's kind of funny but I think for him it would be like talking dirty is for other people. Saying those things is also an attempt to get to Samantha since she challenged him by saying he couldn't do anything to her.

He's also said very clearly to Sam what his intentions towards Batman and Gordon are and she heard him even though she was um...distracted.

I might be trying something different with the next chapter, but that's not a definite. Still working on it and seeing if it works.


	18. Chapter 18 Samantha

**A/N: **This is in the Joker's POV.

Thanks to my reviewers and readers! Love ya!

The italic section at the end is a daydream.

My Yahoo IM name is oc1971jn if you want to chat.

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

Samantha

She had brought him to new heights of self destruction in ways she didn't even know. Pain had been his only physical release since she'd been gone. Other people's pain and his own. After he let her go he settled scores, tormented his men, even engaged the Batman once in a quest to fill that void her absence had created. He hurt himself more times than he could recollect. It had been good but being inside her was even better. Being inside her was pain and rage and helplessness and utter ecstasy. There were none of the terrible, shameful feelings he had experienced with women long ago. She had freed him from those feelings yet because of her he was a willing slave to violence more than ever.

She made him even more dangerous, this woman with cold green eyes and the tantalizing scar on her right leg. So many times he had wanted to run his tongue over that scar, imagining the agony she must have gone through. She was beautiful to him in a way he couldn't analyze. Maybe it was because of the sadness and strength and desire he saw on her face. Yes, it was that plus a hundred other things he couldn't name.

Sometimes he could kick himself for not killing her the moment he saw her. This...woman who looked at him with hardly any fear. She had told him often she wasn't afraid of _him_, just what he was capable of doing. He supposed he might as well be happy with that.

She was interesting to be sure. Her stupid ex boyfriend had hated her and screeched about her endlessly. The fact she had instilled such hate in him, had defeated him and came out ahead intrigued the Joker. He'd decided he wanted to meet her. Most people just weren't worthy of his time. It was all the same, the groveling, crying, the pissing themselves. He knew what people would do before they even did it and it was usually pretty boring.

And when he took her she didn't cry. Not when he killed one of his men right in front of her, not when she woke up for the first time in her cell, not ever.

Oh, he was sure he could break her. Just a few small pushes and she'd be a gibbering idiot. Experiment over. But he realized he didn't want to. Couldn't really bring himself to. He had come to look forward to their little talks. True it was mostly him talking while she nodded her head but she was a good listener. She treated him as if he weren't a freak. Around her he almost felt like a regular person. Ordinarily this would annoy him. He was anything _but_ regular. Fascination overruled his annoyance though.

One day he was asking her...something, he didn't even recall what, and she had looked at him with defiant, faintly amused eyes. He didn't remember what her answer was. The important thing was the way she said it, the way she leaned towards him, arching an eyebrow, lips curving into a sardonic little grin. Those eyes never wavered from his and for a while she spoke to him as if she were there of her own free will. At that moment he decided this David person wasn't going to get what he wanted. He'd been pondering keeping her before that but now...now she would be his to study for a while.

When she had gotten sick he'd decided to entertain himself a bit by seeing if he could get her to warm up to him. She did have a mouth on her and even though he had a grudging admiration of her he still wanted to bring her down a few pegs, show her she was no better than anyone else. It had worked, with the help of morphine, and that had been fun. She was a force to be reckoned with and yet he'd had her clinging to him, practically begging for him to stay near her. And all because she thought she was going to die. Hilarious, really.

And then things had went wrong.

Something had awakened. He hated it with a fury yet welcomed it subconsciously. He had decided to further taunt her by taking her into the bathroom and undressing her. Instead of it just being an amusing way to drag her down it had become a cold flame in his head, one that grew and grew until it was an inferno of cobalt fire, hissing and burning away all his notions of being above other humans. How long had it been since he'd slept with a woman? It had been a long time, before he'd come to the revelation that killing was much more satisfying and nowhere near as emotionally humiliating as sex. Until the incident in the bathroom he hadn't even missed it.

Yes he should have choked her to death then. Naked against him, limp and completely wasted on the morphine, she would have been easy to dispatch. And he could not do it. In his mind he justified it as she was just too much fun. And that was true, but the whole truth was he wanted to fuck her, he wanted to know more about her, he wanted to have her around like a lovely and unique object one would put on their mantle.

He started spending more and more time in his office, his well thumbed copy of 'The Songs of Maldoror' forgotten, staring at her through the camera, thinking of what he wanted to do to her and biting the insides of his mouth until he tasted blood.

He always went back to the way she looked at him. Couldn't stop thinking about it. When most people looked at him he could see the word "_Freak_" dying to come out of their mouth. But when she looked at him her eyes said "I _know_ why you're the way you are. I accept it. I understand, and I _don't care_."

And now here they were in her house, in her bed. He had said things he shouldn't have, carried away by desire. He couldn't resist though, speaking of his plans for Gotham and Gordon and that bat suited fool heightened his ecstasy, made every nerve tingle in anticipation of what was to come. But she wouldn't understand that.

It was a shame really. Samantha wasn't like _them_. She could have been an unstoppable force, a bringer of destruction. Instead she wasted her days taking pills and squandering her life at pointless jobs, blind to her potential. She would be content to move around aimlessly in this giant anthill called Gotham until she finally died, unnoticed. He thought that was a tragic waste.

_In his mind he could picture her sitting peacefully in the middle of a bombed out city. Black and gray ash cover every inch of the ground. The once proud skyscrapers are leveled. Charred bodies litter the streets and sidewalks. It is Gotham after he has had his way with it. Besides him she is the only survivor of the devastation he has inflicted and she is happy for the first time in her life. She is smiling. All because of him. He has finally made her see the way he sees. _

_And she is waiting patiently for him. His possession._

Her voice broke through his daydream and he raised his eyes to her. She wouldn't look at him, which was funny after what they'd just done together. She was just standing there in the bedroom, pulling her shirt down, staring at the wall as if she couldn't stand the sight of him.

"Didn't you hear me?" She was struggling to keep all emotion out of her voice but it didn't work. Not with him.

"No, ah, I didn't. What was that again?"

"I said you can sleep in my bed if you want."

--

**A/N: **Ok, I realize this chapter may have been a tad squirrely and jumpy but this is the Joker we're talking about. I did it to try to explain why he is so beaten up and also to give his perspective on Samantha. We know why she is obsessed with him but I wanted to tell his side a little bit, of what he sees in her and why he does some of the things he does.

Almost finished btw. One more chapter and it's ov-ah ;)


	19. Chapter 19 Ending it

**A/N: **Ok, this is it. Last chapter!

There will be a sequel though.

Again I want to thank all my wonderful readers and reviewers.

If you want to chat my Yahoo IM is oc1971jn.

**CHAPTER NINETEEN  
**

Ending it

"You can sleep in my bed for a while if you want." she repeated.

His eyes focused on her, losing the distant gaze and he regarded her curiously, head tilted.

"You're hurt and you look like you need some rest is why I say that" she clarified. "Don't you ever sleep?"

"As little as I can. I don't even own a bed. When I get tired I just...lie down on the floor." he said sleepily. His eyes were barely open and she saw with some pity how thin and bruised his naked body was. The extent of his deterioration was shocking.

"Well I hate to tell you this but the shape you're in you're gonna have to do better than that. Sleep in a real bed for once. Don't get carried away though, it's not like we're getting engaged."

She started to leave the room but couldn't. She needed to know something.

"That little...speech you gave. What did that mean?"

"Speech?" he asked in feigned ignorance.

"You know what I mean."

"Oh that!" He smiled laconically. "Exciting isn't it? And that wasn't just talk Sam...I'm gonna do it. You'll see."

He licked his lips, getting excited at the mere thought of the mayhem he could spread. "It's going to be amaz-ing. When I'm done _no one_ will be untouched."

"And Jim Gordon and Batman, what about them?"

The joyful gleam in his eyes told her all she needed to know before he even spoke. "Like I said earlier, they'll be the first ones. After that everything will fall into place."

Samantha stared at him for a few seconds, knowing he was telling the truth.

"Get some sleep." she said and went for the door.

"Awww" he said as she started to leave. "That's just sooo like you. You get what you want and then you just, ah, _can't wait_ to get away from me. I'm hurt Samantha."

Saying nothing in return she left the room hurriedly, shutting the door behind her.

--

This couldn't continue, she wouldn't let it. And there was no way in hell, _no way_, she would sit back and let him do what he said he was going to do.

'You aren't like him, you never will be and he knows it.' she thought to herself. 'There's no room for you in his world. Oh, not to mention you're a traitor to all of Gotham now for what you're doing. Aiding and abetting ring a bell? Your whole world is about to be brought crashing down around your ears. And you can't stop him. How do you tell him no without the end result being found in a ditch sliced open like a dressed out deer?'

"Oh for fuck's sake stop it' she whispered aloud. She was sitting on her couch in the dark, tv muted. He was still in her room, hopefully asleep.

Having him in her home bothered her, her conscience rebelled against it, it shoved the lust aside and slapped her awake. Samantha knew it was wrong, since the first time in that dirty little room but at least then she'd had survival as a justification for her actions. But now...

Now there was no justification. Commissioner Gordon came to her mind, the way he had been so worried about her. So _nice_. He had never been anything but sympathetic to her when she didn't deserve it. Not one bit. She knew little about Batman but she did know he stood for something, he had done more than she ever would.

She thought of _him_. He would die if he wasn't stopped and she couldn't say she wouldn't care. This revelation was both sickening and heartbreaking and something finally snapped within her.

The tears came, tears she had not shed throughout her imprisonment or any of the things that had followed. She cried for everything that had happened and what she knew she had to do. That now familiar ache swelled in her chest and she cursed it, hating herself and hating him.

Hand clapped over her mouth, horrified at her weakness, she stifled her sobbing breath. 'He can't hear me crying' she thought frantically 'He'll know.'

For a moment she shut her eyes, tuning everything out, finding a core of strength and resolve within. Eventually the panic subsided and she regained control.

She had once laid in the snow looking at her own bone sticking through her flesh and willed herself to stay alive. She had stared down two monsters, had bested one of them. She could do this.

She crept through her living room and grabbed her purse. Rifling through it and finding what she was looking for she picked up her phone.

--

Waiting. Waiting. Samantha hated waiting. She felt like she'd been waiting all her life for one thing or another. But _this_...this made the waiting for the Joker to release her that night so long ago seem like a cakewalk. She drew herself up on the couch, eyes drifting to the shut bedroom door. She should check on him, make sure he was sleeping but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Minutes plodded by.

Shadows on her wall. Barely noticeable but she saw them. Her breath quickened and she felt slightly queasy. They were surrounding the house.

Then a loud slamming on her front door, another and the door gave way. A SWAT team in full regalia poured in, guns drawn, ready for anything.

"He's in there" Samantha said quietly, motioning to the bedroom door.

"Why are you still in here? You better get out." one of them told her roughly, voice muffled behind his helmet. "This might get ugly."

"It already is" she muttered and stumbled off the couch and out of the opening that used to be her front door.

On her front lawn she saw James Gordon. He looked at her solemnly, lips tight. The reality of what she'd just done hit her and she felt her legs go shaky.

"Thank God you were able to call me" he said "I'm so sorry this has happened to you Miss Knight. I knew I should have..."

"No, don't. Don't say anything." she pleaded and backed away from him. He looked bewildered and opened his mouth to say something when a voice rang out from the house.

"The place is clear! No one here. The bedroom is empty." A SWAT man came out of the house onto her porch.

Gordon looked at her curiously.

"I swear he was in there." Sam murmured. That sick feeling growing tenfold. He had to have left before Gordon and his men arrived. But how could he have known?

"He must have gotten out of the bedroom window. It's open." one of the SWAT men yelled.

"Get the dogs on his trail!" Gordon snapped back. His frustrated gaze went upward, toward her roof, and as Sam followed it to see what he was looking at she almost laughed in sheer despair.

In the moonlight she could see the silhouette of a man on the roof, cloak trailing in the breeze. His head turned this way and that as he searched the area. A strange white glow emanated where his eyes should have been and pointy ears jutted out of what looked to be a mask. There was no mistaking who it was.

'Batman?' she thought incredulously. She wondered if the Joker were hiding out someplace and could see what was happening, if he could see his most hated enemy, summoned here because of _her_. The thought nearly sent her to her knees.

'I'm dead.' she thought. 'No amount of police protection will save me now. I ratted him out, told them where he was. He'll find me and that will be it. He will take me down.'

"We found a note!" someone shouted. "On the bed!" A moment later a SWAT member came running out, holding a piece of notebook paper at arm's length for Gordon to inspect.

'_Oh Christ_.' Her heart sank. She had an idea what the note might contain.

She stood next to Gordon, both of them reading it. When he finally looked at her his formerly fatherly concern was replaced with a cop's hard gaze which only intensified at her sick expression.

"Miss Knight, what exactly does this mean?" he asked, holding the note up. Out of the corner of her eye Sam saw that Batman had come down from the roof and was now approaching them.

She closed her eyes, feeling it all crashing down, down.

The note said:

_Samantha,_

_Sorry I left so suddenly. I didn't want to meet who you invited over. Too bad, I really wanted another round with you. You always were so voracious when it came to me. By the way, have you told the nice Commissioner about what we've done together?_ _Does he know what a screamer you are? _

_I regret to tell you our next meeting won't be as pleasant as the one we had tonight. _

_So, until we meet again,_

_J_

Trembling, Samantha staggered away, feeling the questioning looks of Commissioner Gordon and Batman. Her vision reeled and, unable to help it, she threw up on her lawn.

**END**

**--**

**A/N: **And there we have it. Sam puking in fear in her yard and Batman on her roof, LOL. Poor Sam got owned.

The thing she was looking for in her purse was Jim Gordon's card that he gave to her a few chapters back. Not the smartest move she could have made but Samantha really likes Gordon. The Joker telling her he was going to kill him was the proverbial last straw. The guilt also got to her, her "inner voice" (conscience) just too loud to ignore anymore. She also knew the Joker would end up dying if he continued on his current course and she doesn't want that either. She'd rather see him in prison or Arkham than dead. Having him apprehended was the only way she could see to save him. However, she failed to take into consideration the Joker has an uncanny ability to know everything. He may have even baited her into calling Gordon and his men on him.

Oh yeah...there will be a sequel. The Joker isn't going to be happy with Sam. Not one bit.

I had a blast writing this story. Most of it was written at work, in spite of constant interruptions and my co-worker's nosiness, lol.

Again, for the umpteenth time, I want to thank my reviewers and readers. This was my first story, my first fanfic, and you made it so fun and rewarding. Feel free to chat me up on Yahoo messenger or send me a mail. :)


	20. Chapter 20 The Sequel

**The Sequel**

Just letting you all know I'm going to be posting Chapter 1 of my sequel to Irredeemable very soon. The title is "Chasing torment".

Thanks to everyone for their kindness. Feel free to look me up on Yahoo Messenger under if you want to chat :)


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